


A collection of random thoughts (2019)

by taj_mahal



Category: Tennis RPF
Genre: ATP season 2019, Established Relationship, Fedal (mostly), Gen, M/M, Oneshot collection, mostly fluff (depending on how the season goes...), some Hurt/Comfort now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2019-09-29 08:54:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 30,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17200448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taj_mahal/pseuds/taj_mahal
Summary: A oneshot collection I'll use whenever a random idea (that is not hurt/comfort and fits with my other collection) crosses my mind during the upcoming season.Description and overview of the individual oneshots moved to first chapter as I had used up all the space for the summary.So please see first chapter for a more detailed summary.





	1. Overview

02 - January 2019 : Rafa agrees to Laver Cup, Roger plans to play clay court tournaments.  
:  
03 - Australia 2019 : Roger has a rather subdued celebration in Perth, Rafa has a bit of silly fun in Brisbane.  
:  
04 - AO 2019 : Roger loses his 4th round match against Stefanos Tsitsipas. Things go downhill from there.  
:  
05 - February 2019 : Rafa is getting married, Roger lends perspective.  
:  
06 - March 2019 : Roger decides to play in Madrid. Rafa might not.  
:  
07 - Indian Wells 2019 : Rafa withdraws from his semifinal against Roger due to injury.  
:  
08- Monte Carlo 2019 - Rafa doesn't feel ready for the clay court season. His team and family try to lend perspective.  
:  
09 - Madrid 2019 - Rafa deals with a bout of stomach flu prior to the tournament. Roger is there to pick up the pieces.  
:  
10 - Madrid 2019 - After his loss to Tsitsipas, the Greek confronts Rafa about something the Spaniard has said to the press.  
:  
11 - Rome 2019 - Rafa wins his first title of the year.  
:  
12- Roland Garros 2019 - It's Rafa's birthday and he gets the same present... thrice.  
:  
13 - Roland Garros 2019 - Rafa's fiance and Roger bet on the outcome of the semifinal match. Roger loses in more ways then one...  
:  
14 - Wimbledon 2019 - After his 2nd round match Rafa is in desperate need for some stress relief. Roger is more than willing to oblige.  



	2. Overview

*U.A.E – December 2018*

They are close, way closer than they have been ever since Paris in October. At least officially but that is a whole different matter... It is only about 150 kilometers. Rafa is busy with the exhibition tournament in Abu Dhabi and Roger is in the last stretch of his preparation for the new season in his practice camp in Dubai. Still he can't simply take the trip along the coast of the Arabic country and go say hello. That would raise all kinds of red flags. He can however place a call. 

It takes a while and quite a couple of rings before Rafa picks up the call. Roger has to admit he hasn't really paid attention to the schedule pertaining to the tournament. All he knows, is that Rafa isn't playing any matches today. But that doesn't mean he has no responsibilities that might keep him away from his phone – like interviews or autograph sessions or practice. Maybe it would have been better to simply send a text and let Rafa be the one to call him back. But Roger has something he needs to talk to Rafa about and it isn't exactly a surprise or a secret, that he has missed the Spaniard. This is the perfect opportunity to remedy that and in the end all Roger's fretting is for naught because Rafa does indeed pick up and sounds neither irritated nor stressed. 

“Hola, Rogi.”

“Hey. I just wanted to check in, see how you are...”

“I'm good. Healthy. I just finished practice. Is good to be back on the tour.”

“Yeah, I can imagine. It's good to have you back.”

Roger couldn't be more sincere in his words. He truly feels that it is a great thing and a joyous fact to have Rafa back on the tour after more than three months of a forced break due to multiple injuries sidelining the younger man. It's a proper start to the new season this way and Roger is happy for it. But as glad as they both feel for yet another return to a new season, it's not why Roger has called. So he decides to stop the polite chitchat and get right to the core of his actual reason for calling the Spaniard. 

„I sent you an article. Did you read it?“

„Si.“

„And? What do you think?“

Roger is indeed curious to find out what Rafa has to say. The article he has sent the younger man is about his scheduling for the upcoming season. Usually this isn't something they would discuss, as this is tennis related and any professional decision made is usually off limits for them to discuss. It makes both their lives a lot easier keeping profession and private life separate. But this time it is different because this time Rafa has had a direct input and effect on Roger's decision making. That is why the Spaniard's opinion matters to the older man. And that is why he can't quite appreciate Rafa's almost teasing tone of voice. 

„Is too soon.“

„Excuse me?“

„You telling them about playing the clay court season. Is too soon. Way too soon.“

„It's been two weeks. How can that be too soon?!“

„Is the same month.“

„I know it's the same month. But there's the whole of Christmas in between.“

To anyone listening in on their conversation it would probably make no sense whatsoever. They both know of course and Roger doesn't like the spin and perspective Rafa is offering on this whole matter even one bit. It's probably because the younger man is not exactly wrong and Roger has no real arguments to offer. Maybe it has indeed been two little time between Rafa's announcement to play at Laver Cup and Roger's announcement to play one or maybe even more clay court tournaments in this upcoming season. Still he doesn't like to admit to any mistakes or flaws. Rafa however makes that abundantly difficult for him. 

„Christmas has nothing to do with tennis.“

„I'm aware of that.“

„So – is too soon.“

„Stop saying that! It's not. And I didn't even tell them myself. I had somebody on my team spread the news. All very casual... I think I was very stealthy.“

Roger has to smile at his own lack of modesty and he is pretty sure the amusement carries to his voice. Maybe he is mistaken but he is almost sure he can hear the softest of chuckles at the other end of the line. The Swiss wholeheartedly believes in his approach of announcing his plans for the next year as well as the time line of it all. Rafa however is not deterred from his own opinion even by an inch. He's as stubborn as ever and always, holding onto what he believes is right... or wrong in this particular case. 

„They know.“

„Oh come on! Nobody knows.“

„They know. They will – come se dice – put two and two together.“

„Which means what exactly? This has nothing to do with you and me, why would anyone assume otherwise? Why would my season plans have anything to do with you agreeing to play Laver Cup again?“

„But it does.“

Roger hears himself sigh without actually making the conscious decision to do so. It's not that he is frustrated or in need of an argument with Rafa. He is simply annoyed by the fact that the younger man is right yet again. Because Rafa playing Laver Cup and Roger playing parts of the clay court season are linked. But they – and certain members of their teams – are the only ones knowing that and even if press will come up with the scenario and a bit of speculation it doesn't mean anything... or at least Roger hopes it doesn't.

„I know it does and you know it does. But that's it. And that's only because you forced me to.“

„I could never force you to do anything, Rogi.“

„You said you...“

Roger never gets to finish the sentence because Rafa laughs a soft, warm, amused laugh at the other end of the line. He is thinking back to that moment at the beginning of the month when Roger had come to Rafa's home island for a surprise visit and they had spoken about this particular topic. Rafa had shanghaied Roger into an agreement that day and it seems that is a fact the younger man is still fond of... and just a little bit proud. Right now he is using it for a relentless tease in Roger's direction. 

„I know. But you can say no.“

*#*

*Mallorca – 3 weeks earlier*

It's exceptionally warm on the Mediterranean island for this time of year but it certainly isn't anything Roger is going to complain about. He is at the beach house in Porto Cristo that Rafa's family owns, nursing a glass of sofa, while stretched out on one of the deck chairs by the pool. The pool is empty at this time of year, he is fully dressed and having a blanket lie at is feat but the sky is blue, the sun is shining and it is simply an enjoyable afternoon he is having here. Especially because he is not spending it alone.

Rafa is right there next to him and the Swiss is very much aware of the fact that the younger man has been watching him closely for the better part of the last 15 minutes. Roger has managed to surprise Rafa after his practice session – one of the first since his surgery – today at his academy and they have gone for lunch before coming here for the evening. So far they have mostly exchanged news – about their families, their preparation and what they have been up to these last couple of weeks in general. But there are things yet left unspoken between them and Rafa seems to be very much aware of it. The next time he gives Roger a long, curious glance, he actually breaks the comfortable silence between them. 

„You did not come only to visit, did you Rogi?“

„Why wouldn't I? This is a prime spot for tourists, isn't it? And the weather is nice and there is lots to see and do...“

„So you came to visit Mallorca?“

„Yes. No! I came to see you, I came to have a weekend of sun and good food and a bit of casual conversation. Seems the casual conversation part is not really in the cards for me though.“

There is just a tiny bit of a tease and a hint of – albeit light-hearted – reproach to Roger's final statement and they both fall silent again. Roger is pretty sure he has not been able to divert or distract Rafa – at all. There is that guarded posture to Rafa's whole body as he glances at Roger again now. He is waiting. Anticipating. It's almost like a predator watching it's prey. He knows Roger has something else to say, something to ask him and this damn scrutiny makes it entirely impossible to keep what he wants to ask of Rafa to himself for any longer. Still Roger tries to be subtle about his approach. It doesn't quite work out as planned. 

„So... We'll be in Geneva for Laver Cup this upcoming year...“

„Si.“

„It's way more convenient than Chicago...“

„Si.“

„You are not going to make this easy on me, are you?“

Rafa looks at him all innocence and oblivion and Roger can't help but smile. It's good Rafa plays tennis for a living. He would make for a terrible actor. They both know all too well what Roger wants, what he is asking and what the reason for him being here – other than a chance to spend time with the Spaniard – is. Rafa manages to keep a straight face for quite a long moment... and then he smiles – a bright, knowing mischievous smile. He never actually says yes or uses the words 'Laver Cup' or 'agree' or 'teammate'. He goes straight for what he can possibly gain from Roger's inquiry.

„I have one condition.“

„I'm not sure I like where this is going... but okay.“

„You come to Paris this year.“

„For what? Sightseeing?“

Roger is trying to turn the tides here and tries his best to beat Rafa at his own little game. If the Spaniard can play dumb, Roger feels he has every right to do the same. But Rafa gives him that pointed look with a frown on his face and one eyebrow raised dramatically high and Roger has a very hard time not to grin at the sight. They both know he is stalling and playing dumb and they both know Rafa is seeing right through that. So Roger decides to stop it. It's time to get to some kind of agreement here and somehow he feels Rafa gets more out of this than Roger gains... though he really doesn't mind.

„How is that fair? For Laver Cup, we'll be teammates. For the French Open, we will be opponents. It's not even remotely the same.“

„Is my condition.“

„And if I agree to this, you'll say yes? You'll be my teammate for Laver Cup again?“

Rafa nods this time and finally Roger gets him to give a verbal agreement. It's not really an agreement though – not yet. After all Rafa has made it clear that he wants something in return, that this is something he will only do for a price. It's a no-brainer really but this is something that pertains Roger's schedule and as much as he would like to – if only to make Rafa happy right here and now – he needs to talk this through with his team and family before actually making the decision. 

„Si.“

„Good, great. I... I'll think about Paris then.“

*#*

Roger is first to return his thoughts from the moment of reminiscing back to the present and the phone call they are having. They have a difference of opinion here but in the end there is nothing much they can do about it now. Roger has already made the announcement and even though Rafa isn't too happy with it or at least has it's doubt about the timing of it all, Roger can't very well take it back. He is however happy and eager for any additional input the Spaniard has to offer and he really does not want this conversation on a miscommunication and any kind of hard feelings. 

„So what now?“

„Now we hope press is really very stupid.“

„Judging from some of the questions I've heard at tournament press conferences we are very much safe.“

Rafa chuckles at the other end of the line again and this time it's a little louder and little stronger. He takes a moment to reign in his amusement again, replacing his merriment with a slight tone of reproach to his voice. It's all good-natured bickering, nothing more. They both know how stupid and annoying some of the sports journalists can be – especially after a lost match – and in that regard Roger's assessment is not that far off from the truth. Still Rafa blames him fro his rudeness. 

„You are not nice, Rogi.“

„I did agree to play in Paris, did I not?“

„Is not something nice you do. Is more like business, no? An agreement. You get something in return.“

„I do, don't I. Something really enjoyable.“

Roger can't help the teasing, almost inviting tone to his voice. There is so much more meaning behind Roger's cheeky words than the fact that they will be playing Laver Cup together again and Rafa can't help but grin, though Roger cannot see that at the other end of the line. Ever since his surprise visit to Mallorca, they haven't had the chance to see one another again and in that regard Roger is actually glad for his decision to play parts of the clay court season – at least it will give him and Rafa more chances to spend time together. Right now he is focused on the near future though. Paris is a long while away. Luckily they will be seeing each other long before that. Roger isn't quite sure why he formulates his hope as a question. Then again – judging from the way the last couple of months since the US Open have gone for Rafa – you never know... 

„See you in Melbourne?“

„Yes, you will. Only 10 days now.“

„I know. I can't wait.“

Maybe he sounds a little over enthusiastic right there and then but Roger really couldn't care less if his feelings show. It's not like Rafa is his opponent and rival all the time... and this is not just about Laver Cup now. He's more than that, way more and he has a right to know the truth of how Roger feels. Still the younger man downplays the importance of them finally meeting again and spending weeks at a time in the same place. Then again Rafa wouldn't be Rafa if he wouldn't try to do exactly this. It actually manages to make Roger smile... and tease just a little bit more. 

„You only saw me three weeks ago.“

„Yeah and look at how successful that was. You agreed to play Laver Cup with me again. Who knows what you will agree to this time.“

„Depends on what you give to me in return.“

„Wouldn't you like to know.“

 

\- FIN -


	3. Of lame celebrations and laughing fits

*Perth / Brisbane – January 2019*

It's late when the phone call comes, practically the middle of the night, but Roger is still too excited and to riled up by today's events to even think about sleep. Still the final match of this year's Hopman Coup happened hours and hours ago and he has already arranged himself with the idea, that a certain someone will not call him to tell him he is happy for him and to congratulate him on the victory and the defense of the title. But he is wrong. Because there is a phone call. And even though it is late, Roger still very much appreciates it, despite the lateness of it.

“Hola, Rogi.”

“Rafa, hi... It's almost midnight.”

„I know. Sorry it is so late. I had practice and dinner and I hope you are still awake. I call to say 'Congratulations'.“

It's almost cute how Rafa both apologizes and points out the obvious and Roger feels a bout of fondness warm his heart. It is the main reason he has hoped for Rafa to call. The younger man always manages to put a smile on his face. It's also good to hear that Rafa has checked the results of the tournament in Perth and has made an effort to get in contact with Roger. It's not like all and every of his fellow players do that. But then again not all of them are Rafa. Roger is curious to find out how much of the tournament and today's matches Rafa has actually seen. 

„You watched?“

„Some of it. You were very good, both of you.“

Roger can barely here the compliment Rafa is giving to both him and his female doubles partner, because there is a lot of commotion and noise in the background. Roger can hear different voices – none of them speaking English – talking and laughing. Rafa has just told him he has gone to dinner before calling. It sounds a lot like he hasn't actually returned to his hotel yet. 

„Thanks... Where are you? Still at the restaurant?“

„No. My room. Some of my team is here...“

„Well they are very distracting... and loud.“

Roger doesn't mean to sound condescending or demanding but he probably ends up coming across as both. Rafa reacts almost instantaneously. Roger can hear the soft ruffling of clothes and the pitter patter of footsteps as Rafa moves away from the commotion right next to him. Roger assumes the younger man walks over to a different room. It takes only a couple of seconds – and Roger can hear the very soft click of a door closing - and the background noise dies down. There is a soft tone of amusement to Rafa's voice as he questions Roger about the relocation.

„How is that? Better?“

„Very. So you were saying?“

„Was a great final match that doubles match, but...“

„But what?“

Roger is a little apprehensive. He values Rafa's opinion but of course the cheekiness to the younger man's tone of voice is not lost on him. Rafa's interjection however has nothing to do with the match.   
What Rafa has to say is not even remotely competition related and it is definitely not what Roger has expected – not ever, not in a million years. 

„A very lame celebration.“

„Lame?!“

„You barely celebrate at all! You win the match and you stand there like a statue. Poor Belinda jumping around happily and you make her look like an idiot.“

„Maybe I'm sophisticated.“

Roger actually manages to sound sure of himself but Rafa only needs one sound to make that feeling go away. To his credit one must admit that it sounds like he actually fights to keep his reaction reigned in. But on the other end of the line an amused snort escapes Rafa's lips. Other than that the younger man doesn't comment and Roger hurries to come up with a different explanation for the – supposedly – lame celebration. 

„Or maybe I'm just not big on celebrations and displays of affection in public? And she did not look like an idiot.“

„You have no problem with me at Laver Cup. You enjoy celebrating then.“

Of course Rafa would use Laver Cup as a gauge for the enthusiasm Roger usually shows when winning a tournament where he is part of a group or team. But there was nothing normal about Laver Cup 2017. It has been special and Rafa knows that. But it seems he has either forgotten – which Roger highly doubts – or he is playing the innocent oblivious one on purpose. Either way Roger has to point out the facts to the Spaniard, who stubbornly clings to his own opinion about the matter. 

„That was different.“

„How?“

„It was you. You are way more... outgoing and passionate when it comes to celebrating a victory.“ 

„Did you just call your doubles partner boring?“

Roger actually grins at that. He would never call Belinda boring but of course Rafa knows that. He is simply teasing and the younger man obviously has fun with it. Roger however plans to get back at Rafa. He is not the only one who has done something that is amusing – and Roger himself is pretty sure his celebration with Belinda has not been that bad after all – and he is not the only one who will get teased. 

„No. I called you enthusiastic. And apparently you're also very easy to amuse.“

„At Laver Cup? I don't understand...“

„No. In Brisbane.“

Rafa needs a moment but then he seems to understand what Roger is referring to and the Swiss can hear him chuckle. At the end of Rafa’s practice on Saturday, two of his team members had attempted to fold up the Rafa Nadal Academy banner, in form of a pop out hold up tent, they had brought along. They had no luck. Rafa had just watched on as they tried for a few minutes before finally getting the banner to do it himself. He had given up after a couple minutes to laughter ensuing. Rafa watched on smiling, chuckling and laughing on as various members of his team and a couple admin members tried to fold up this banner. After about seven minutes it was finally folded to cheers of the crowd gathered for the practice session. Obviously even the memory of it still causes amusement for Rafa right now and he is very much defending his reaction out there on the practice court in Brisbane. 

„It was funny.“

„It was embarrassing is what it was. A whole group of grown men trying to deal with folding a pop up banner and laughing their asses off.“

„We were not embarrassed. We had a lot to laugh. You had to be there... How do you know about it?“

„I saw pictures.“

„How? It was not a match, there was no media, no TV... How do you know?“

Rafa's rather offensive way of questioning him makes the Swiss feel slightly uncomfortable. He doesn't like being put on the spot like this. Rafa is right after all, there hasn't been coverage of Rafa's practice session like there has been of Roger's matches at Hopman Cup but that doesn't mean there has been no way to find out about it. He doesn't like that Rafa puts him out like that though, but he can't very well lie to the younger man or keep quiet. So he tells him. 

„I used Google?“

„You looked me up?“

„So did you!“

There isn't really an argument in Roger's favor here. Because it's not the same. Rafa has taken a look at the official coverage of the tournament played in Perth, hasn't even seen a whole match but probably only highlights of it. Roger has definitely taken more of an effort to find out what Rafa has been up to in Brisbane these last couple of days. Of course Rafa is aware of that... and he tells Roger as much. 

„Yes. But I only have to put the TV on and I find out. You search the internet? You check up on me?“

„I did not!“

„You just said....“

Rafa sounds very much fond of Roger and flattered by the fact that Roger has taken both the time and effort to find out about him and his activities. The Swiss however feels himself blushing at the younger man's display of humility. Roger interrupts the younger man mid-sentence before Rafa gets another chance to tease him mercilessly yet again. Roger doesn't mean to be offensive and he actually chuckles while telling the younger man not to read too much into what he has done. 

„You have way too high an opinion of yourself, you know that?“

„Doesn't change the facts. You look me up... You check in, see how I am and what I do. That is very nice of you.“

„Remember that when I beat you in Melbourne.“

Roger doesn't mean to sound vindictive or rude, and Rafa doesn't take it personally. It is more of a joke than anything anyway. There is a soft, fond chuckle at the other end of the line, but Rafa doesn't challenge Roger on his statement. He doesn't comment either. All he does, is tell the older man that he is happy to see him in just a couple of days. 

„See you there.“

 

\- FIN -


	4. Substitute

It is the first tournament they both compete in since the US Open and it seems they have not yet broken the vicious circle that has Roger losing before Rafa does and the Spaniard going to see his friend and lover after his loss to talk to and comfort him. This isn't how it was supposed to go. Of course a loss is always an option in their professional life. Tennis is a sport after all and – as in any sport – there are victors and losers. Today Roger has lost.

They were supposed to meet in the locker room after the match, as their original plans had been to have dinner and Roger had been quite enthusiastic about the idea before the match. Rafa could only assume the older man had changed his mind and didn't feel in the mood to go out any more. Rafa didn't blame him. But he would have liked for Roger to at least tell him they wouldn't spend the evening together. But Roger hadn't come to the locker room, he hadn't answered his phone and even though Rafa does understand that the older man is not in the mood, he still wants a chance to see Roger and talk to him.

It's the reason he seeks Roger out at his hotel room instead. Of course Rafa can't be sure Roger is actually there because the Swiss has never answered his calls and Rafa doesn't know where the older man has gone after the match and his post match responsibilities. But Rafa knows all too well how he feels after losing a match... The comfort, quite and privacy of his own hotel room is usually the place to go to contemplate, mope just a little... and get over the fact that life doesn't always hand sunshine and roses to all of them. 

When he knocks on the door to the suite Roger and Mirka share, it is the older woman who opens the door on him. As always when being confronted with her, Rafa feels just a tiny bit awkward. Mirka has never been anything but nice to him, but still this... shared relationship they both have with Roger makes Rafa feel uncomfortable every time he is alone with Mirka. Today is no different from all the other times, especially as Rafa has to ask a favor of the older woman. 

“I come for Roger. Is he here?”

“He's in the bedroom. He's been in a funk ever since we came back from the tournament grounds. Maybe you can talk some sense into him. I'll leave you guys to talk.”

“Thank you, Mirka.” 

The older woman gives him a nod and a smile before she leaves the room, leaving Rafa alone with Roger. The awkwardness never quite leaves Rafa. This is a strange hotel room and he has no place snooping around here all alone. It would be easier if he wouldn't have to walk the length of the room and if the bedroom door would be open. This way however he has to cross the room, knock and – as there is no answer – try the handle before he ever comes face to face with Roger. The older man is sitting on the edge of the bed and looks up when Rafa steps into the room, all nervousness and apprehension.

“Rogi, it's me. Mirka let me in. Are you okay?”

“No, I'm not okay.”

“Yes... Stupid question. I came to see you, make sure you are...”

Rafa is still trying to find another word to use instead of 'okay' again to ask Roger how he is doing right now, when the older man interrupts him. Rafa is pretty sure the Swiss doesn't mean to be hurtful or insulting. He is simply in a bad mood and doesn't have a filter for the things he says. This has been a bad evening for him, a bad result and Roger is not in the mood for company. Mirka has already told him as much. But still Roger telling him this bluntly to leave him alone sends a painful stab through Rafa's heart. But he smiles at the Swiss despite himself, hoping to lighten the mood with it. 

“You don't have to be here.”

“I want to. I want to talk and see you. You never came to meet me...”

“I did.”

Roger's reply surprises Rafa. He has debated being reproachful in the first place but it is not about accusing Roger of anything. He simply wants to know why the Swiss has left him hanging. Apparently Roger has done no such thing though. At least that is what he claims. But Rafa hasn't seen Roger anywhere – not in the catacombs of Rod Laver Arena, not at the locker room or anywhere else. But still the Swiss claims that has been the case. Rafa needs a more detailed explanation. 

“Sorry?”

“I was there, Rafa. I saw you with Stefanos.“

„When?“

Rafa actually manages to successfully pull off looking like he has no idea what Roger is talking about and that irritates the Swiss beyond believe. He glares at the Spaniard but to no avail. Rafa can simply admit it now, after all Roger has already let him in on the fact that he knows about him and the Greek. There is no need to lie anymore. But instead the younger man decides to play dumb and Roger feels very much irritated, his negative feelings only aggravated by the way Rafa decides to react. 

Roger had been on his way back to the locker room - after a less than favorable press conference – to tell Rafa they wouldn't be going for dinner after all. He had barely even been through the door when he had caught sight of both Rafa and the obnoxious young Greek player, that had just thrown him out of the tournament, engaged in a hug, smiling and animatedly talking to one another. It had been all Roger had needed to see. After that he had turned and left and now Rafa was forcing him to relive that experience yet again. Roger wasn't even trying to hide how he felt about this whole thing. His voice was dripping venom as he answered. 

„What do you mean, when?! After the match, in the locker room.“

„I was waiting... for you. To say sorry. To go eat with you.“

„Well you didn't, did you? You talked to him instead.“

Rafa has no idea where Roger's sudden hostility comes from. Yes, he has talked to Stefanos but it is not like that has been wrong in any way. After all he has been there in the locker room and he couldn't very well have ignored the Greek player. It would have been rude and it would have raised questions as to why he was there in the first place. And of course – despite his heart going out for Roger and the sympathy he feels for the older man – Rafa is happy for Stefanos as well of course. Despite his own negative feeling, Roger has to understand that. 

„He won. I said congratulations.“

„You hugged him.“

„For congratulations too.“

„I didn't know you were such good friends.“

There is an edge to Roger's tone of voice that Rafa can't quite place but that makes him feel extremely uncomfortable. If he didn't know any better he would say the Swiss is angry with him... and maybe even jealous. He has done nothing wrong though. All he has done, is to talk to a fellow player and congratulate him on a match well played and on a very emotional and great victory. After all this is Stefanos' first quarterfinal he has reached at a Grand Slam tournament. He deserves praise for that, no matter how Rafa feels about Roger... He tries to soothe the Swiss, tries to get Roger to let go of this unnecessary jealousy but he doesn't exactly get anywhere with 

„We are not. I was being...“

„Touchy feely? Exploratory? Curious?“

„What?“

„Forget it.“

Roger gets up from the bed and has his back on Rafa now as he walks over to the floor length windows, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he comes to a halt and looks outside, on into the night. He is not willing to talk to Rafa about this any more, his whole posture states as much. Rafa doesn't exactly like it, would rather get this conversation to a proper finish and make it clear to Roger – once and for all – that there is no need for him to be jealous or angry because there is no chance in hell that there will ever be anything more between him and Stefanos than respect and amicability and maybe a little bit of friendship. But Roger doesn't give Rafa even so much as a chance to talk about how he feels about Stefanos any longer. The Swiss doesn't entirely change the subject either though. 

„He played for time on his own serve.“

„He was a little late one or two times. It happens.“

Rafa tries to sound casual without putting up to much of a defense on Stefanos' behalf. Somehow Roger doesn't seem to appreciate that too much right now and Rafa can't really blame him. There have been long, long moments in between serves that Stefanos has taken during the match and of course Roger is a lot more emotionally invested in that fact than Rafa ever could be. Roger tenses at Rafa's reply, at the defense he takes up, but the older man doesn't comment on it. Instead he keeps on going, acting like Rafa has never said anything at all. 

„He kept muttering to himself. It's irritating.“

„You do what you do to keep calm and concentrated. We all do.“

„He faked an injury.“

„He did not.“

Rafa can't help his own rather harsh reaction but Roger is taking it too far now and Rafa's tone of voice is a little harsher as he responds to the Swiss' accusation. Even with a one sided and emotionally biased take on what has happened when Stefanos has called for the trainer to help with what have most definitely been cramps, there is not even the slightest chance or sense in interpreting something into Stefanos actions than can be construed as faking an injury. It's simply not fair to the Greek. Roger however doesn't take Rafa's defense of the young Greek too good. He gets even more... unjust in his approach.

„You would know I guess. Everything for the win, right? A bit of mind games, a bit of theater?“

Rafa finds himself gasping. A painful stab goes right through him yet again. Roger could just as well have turned around, stepped up to him and pushed a knife right through his heart. In a way that is what he has done – even though it is just metaphorically. Of course there is a hint of truth to Roger's words – Rafa takes his time when he serves, sometimes a little more time than he is allowed to. Rafa also has called a trainer on court for help and has had medical timeouts quite a few times. But he has never – not once – used the options granted to any player by the rules they all have to adhere to, to the disadvantage of any of his opponents. Roger accusing him like this isn't only not fair, it is completely uncalled for... and it hurts.

Roger – who has turned back around to face the Spaniard as he throws the harsh words at him - knows he is in for trouble the moment he sees Rafa's facial expression change. He looks closed off now, wearing his professional face reserved for media outings and press conference. He has his game face on now and whatever sympathy and vulnerability has been there just a second ago, vanishes completely. Rafa is still calm and collected but overly polite. He talks to Roger like he would be talking to some annoying journalists asking stupid questions. But it doesn't manage to make Roger aware of his own shortcomings and the harshness of the words he has chosen. It simply manages to make him angry, even more than he already is. He feels mistreated, by Tsitsipas, by Rafa, by the whole damn world in general and he needs a chance to vent his anger. Conveniently... Rafa is right there. 

“You are disappointed and you are angry and frustrated. I understand. But you have no right to talk to me like this. Your loss is not my fault.”

“No. It's that Greek teenager's fault!”

“He's 20 years old. He is no child anymore. And is not his fault.”

“Whose fault is it then?!”

“Yours.”

Rafa's tone of voice is cold and dismissive now and Roger actually winces when the Spaniard tells him he – and he alone – is the one responsible for the outcome of the match tonight. It's the last thing Roger wants to hear, because he knows Rafa isn't wrong in his assessment. There have been quite a few missed chance, too many moments he has been too passive in and even more moments when he has allowed irritation and frustration to win the better of him. In the end that has cost him the match, whether he wants to admit to that or not. Rafa's next words catch Roger off guard... because they seemingly have nothing to do with what they have been talking about before and they only manage to make Roger more angry again. 

“I think you should apologize, Roger.”

“To Tsitsipas?! For what?!”

“To me. You should apologize to me.”

Rafa's voice is trembling ever so slightly right now, emotion causing his accent to be even more pronounced than it usually is. Roger frowns at him and Rafa feels his heart sink. Roger either pretends not to know what Rafa is talking about or he really is completely unaware. Rafa is not in any mood to have this conversation for a moment longer. He feels hurt, he feels mistreated and above all else he is very much angry with Roger – for both his choice of words and his ignorance at the fact that they have been utterly wrong and hurtful. He decides to leave. 

“What for?”

“Think about it.”

*#*

It is the next morning and Rafa has slept very, very badly. He is still reeling from last night's events, Roger still hasn't come to talk to him and apologize to him as Rafa has suggested and he simply can't let the memory of the conversation and it's aftermath go. Yesterday, Rafa hadn't know where to go. He has practically fled from Roger's hotel room and when he stood outside he has had no idea where to turn to. He could have gone to talk to one of his team members, he could have gone down to the lobby bar or the restaurant and hope to find somebody or something that would distract him. But Rafa had not felt in the mood for any company and he had decided to go back to his own room and go to sleep. It hadn't been a good idea either but it was the lesser of two evils...

Right now Rafa is at a breakfast table in the hotel restaurant, nursing a cup of coffee. His team has already left and they are all worried about him, Rafa can tell. He has barely talked, has said less than two words to either of the members of his team and family and they have given him his space. They know he will come and talk to them when he needs them and they will be there for him then. He can rely on them. Unfortunately it seems he can neither rely on Roger to do the right thing, nor on his fellow players to have the same... insight into his psyche as his team has. Because one of them does not seem to realize that him being all alone at a table with only a cup of coffee in front of him, means he wants to be left alone. The oblivious fellow player is Stefanos of all people. 

“Rafa, hi... I just thought I... check on you... I don't mean to be rude, but you look... sort of... bad...”

“Yes I know. But is fine. Everything's okay.”

“You don't look fine or okay... You look like... Have you been crying?”

Rafa winces at the question. Carlos had been the only one on his team who had commented on the fact that there were dark shadows under Rafa's eyes and he had told the older man it had simply been a bad night's sleep. Carlos hadn't pried after that but Stefanos doesn't seem to have a problem with being nosy. He means well and that is enough of a redeeming quality to Rafa to let the younger man's bluntness slide. For some reason Rafa also feels inclined to be honest with the Greek. Maybe it is sympathy, maybe it is the fact that he has made so much of an effort last night to defend Stefanos. Whatever it is, Rafa tells him the truth – the whole truth.

“Maybe a little.”

“Why?!”

“I had a fight.”

“A fight with who?”

“Roger. About you. He saw us talk and hug after your match. He is jealous.”

Rafa realizes what he has just revealed only when Stefanos gapes and blinks at him before dropping down on one of the free chairs at the table. The implications of what Rafa tells him right there are just too enormous to take in all at once. Of course Stefanos is aware that there are rumors going around but he has never believed in them. And here Rafa sits, telling him he has had a fight with Roger Federer, who is jealous of Stefanos for eliciting a hug from Rafa after his win... It doesn't take a genius to put two and two together. Stefanos drops his voice down to a whisper. After all this is a delicate topic and not a conversation anyone else should listen in on.

“You two... You are... together?!”

“Yes.”

“Why... why would you tell me that?”

“You asked.”

Stefanos finds himself huffing at Rafa's rather straightforward response. He is not exactly sure what he has expected though. Rafa has no reason to be this honest with him, he has no reason to trust him, but he does it anyway and Stefanos has no idea how to handle the situation. He isn't Rafa's friend and with everything the older man has achieved and accomplished, they are definitely not on eye level, not really. Rafa is approachable though and right now it seems he is willing to share how he feels and what is going on in his life with Stefanos. There is no reason not to jump at the chance. The young Greek smiles nervously, still searching for something intelligent to say in response. He doesn't quite manage. 

“Yeah, I did... Wow...”

“You cannot tell anyone.”

“Of course. I know, I get it. I'll keep your secret. It's just... you and Roger... What now? Did you... break up?”

“I don't know.”

“Wow...”

“You said that before.”

Rafa is smiling at him now, but it is a soft and sad smile that never quite reaches the older man's tired and mildly bloodshot eyes. He tries to reassure Stefanos for the sake of his own comfort and safety and that isn't exactly necessary. After all he is not the one who has had a fight with somebody he is very fond of. Actually he has been the reason that whole fight has ensued in the first place. He really wishes there was something he could do to make this better, but it seems all he can come up with is to repeat himself and ask the same stupid question over again. 

“It's just hard to wrap my mind around this... Are you okay?”

“No.”

“Would... would you like to have a drink? Or maybe a late lunch? Might take your mind off things...”

Stefanos does not expect Rafa to say yes. It's a long shot and he simply offers to make the Spaniard feel better. He is absolutely sure Rafa will smile and shake his head ever so softly and tell him there is no need for this. But Rafa manages to surprise Stefanos. He does smile and he does move his head, but he doesn't shake it. Instead Rafa nods at him and Stefanos is pretty sure his mouth is hanging open ever so slightly at Rafa's response. 

“Is a good idea, Stefanos. Thank you.”

*#*

Roger needs almost a full day – a restless night of barely any sleep, a grumpy, taciturn breakfast with his family, a hot shower and his wife telling him to at least try and snap out of it – that the gravity of his conversation with Rafa last night actually catches up with him. Roger has no idea how he has been able not to pick up on his own harshness up until now but it isn't until the late afternoon that the full memory of what he has said crashes down on him and it dawns on him how much the implications behind his words must have hurt the Spaniard.

Not only has Roger allowed a whole set of negativity to win the better of him. He has interpreted something into a situation he has only gotten a glimpse of, he has decided to not give any value to Rafa's honesty and he has accused the younger man of having some sort of romantic relationship with Stefanos as well as accusing Rafa of using whatever advantage he can gain by taking his time... or his chance for a medical evaluation by a trainer on court to win his matches... Roger has no idea what has gotten into him last night, but he knows one thing for sure - Rafa has been right from the start. Roger needs to apologize to the younger man.

He knows the longer he waits, the more difficult it will be to actually do this. He hates admitting that he is wrong but he has definitely been wrong yesterday and Rafa deserves an apology. So Roger gets underway, steps into a pair of shoes, grabs his key card and takes the stairs instead of the elevator to get the two floors down to where Rafa's hotel suite is. The movement is actually helping, it is helping Roger not to think too much about what to say or how to approach Rafa. He simply has to do it...

Still his hand is trembling ever so slightly when he knocks on the door and he feels a little unsure about the whole situation. Roger simply hopes that he will come up with the right words to say as soon as Rafa opens the door on him. He hopes seeing the younger man will inspire him somehow... Rafa does indeed open the door and there is a smile on his face when he does. The expression dulls down however, when he detects who his visitor is and that is not exactly a good start. But Roger tries anyway. 

“Rafa, I... Can we talk?”

“Si.”

“Can I come in?”

Rafa is reluctant for just a tiny little moment and Roger feels his intestines clench painfully. It looks a lot like the younger man is about to tell him no and there is only one reason Roger can come up with why that would be. Something is going on here, something Rafa doesn't want to tell him about. In the end the younger man relents and steps out of the way to let him in. The second Roger steps over the threshold and into the room, he can hear footsteps approaching and hears an all too familiar voice that immediately tells him he has been right – something fishy is going on here indeed.

“Was it Carlos as you thought... Oh... Roger, hi...”

“Stefanos...”

“Hi...”

“You said that already.”

“I...”

“Leave.”

Logically Roger knows he has no right to throw Stefanos out of Rafa's hotel room. But then again Stefanos has no right to be here and he certainly has no right to stay while Roger tells Rafa how he feels about this visitor the Spaniard has been trying to hide from him. Roger is filled with righteous anger and disdain now and he needs to vent that fury. He has allowed his own damn emotions for Rafa to blind him but he is being confronted with the truth rather bluntly right here and now. The fact that Stefanos looks to Rafa for his opinion only makes matters worse. 

“Rafa?”

“Stefanos, I think is best if you go now.”

“Are you sure?”

“I be fine.”

“Okay...”

The Greek's gaze wanders between Rafa and Roger for a moment longer and he seems very reluctant to actually listen to what Rafa tells him to do. In the end he relents. Rafa is sure he will be fine and even though Roger looks displeased up to the point of being furious about the fact that Stefanos is here right now, he certainly wouldn't hurt Rafa in any way. At least not physically... Emotionally Stefanos is not so sure about that. After all Rafa has been miserable only this morning exactly because Roger has fought with him. But this is their relationship and their discussion to have. 

The second the door closes behind Stefanos and they are alone, Roger descends on Rafa. He doesn't yell, he doesn't step closer, doesn't physically try to intimidate the younger man. He isn't even furious any more. He is disillusioned and very, very disappointed. His entire reason for coming here has been a lie right from the start and that is a fact he needs to live with from now on. Rafa has made a decision without consulting him or regarding his feelings. Now it is up to Roger to do the same. 

“Unbelievable...”

“Rogi...”

“Don't call me that, okay?! Not after what you just did!”

Rafa's eyes widen at Roger's statement and the older man snorts in disdain as Rafa quite unsuccessfully tries to act like he has done nothing wrong. Here Rafa is, having just told the damn Greek to leave his room and leave him and Roger alone, but the Spaniard actually has the audacity to lie right to Roger's face and not only act like he hasn't done anything wrong, he actually tells Roger as much. But the Swiss never even listens, he doesn't want to hear anything else Rafa has to say in his own defense. He doesn't want to hear any more lies. After all it's all too obvious what is going on here. Roger has been right from the start and there never has been any need to apologize.

“I don't do nothing.”

“Have you been seeing him? For how long? How long has this been going on? How long have you been lying and cheating, mh?! How long?! God, I've been such an idiot...”

“You are an idiot now! I'm not seeing Stefanos, unless we play a match. He's a fellow player. Nothing else.”

“Yeah sure... First Barcelona, then Toronto and both times I wasn't there. Then the guy talks about you before his final in Stockholm and now you two share hugs in the locker room here... What else am I supposed to think?!”

“That we play the same sport together and that we end up getting thrown together from time to time. That is what matches are all about.”

“You and I haven't played a match against one another in almost a year and a half!”

Roger is aware that his argument is quite lame. After all schedules and draws and quite a large amount of luck determine which player plays against which in the tournaments they compete at. Rafa is not wrong in that regard. He has played against Stefanos only twice and the same goes for Roger as well. It's a matter of chance, the way tournament draws go. But the fact that Rafa doesn't even take a hint of the blame, only aggravates the way Roger feels – betrayed and abandoned.

“How is that my fault?”

“I never said it was your fault! Cheating on me with Stefanos, THAT is your fault!”

“I did not...”

“I don't care, okay?! You can tell me all the lies you think you need to come up with, but I don't care and I don't want to hear them! I never should have come here...”

Roger yells and insults and accuses before he finally turns and Rafa knows he will be leaving. He could stop the older man of course, but he has no idea how. He has tried to tell Roger that he is wrong, he has tried to tell Roger there has been no cheating and mistreatment here but the Swiss doesn't listen to him and no matter how else Rafa will try to spin the same words over and over again, he is pretty sure he will not find any other way to make Roger listen. He lets the Swiss leave. 

*#*

Stefanos has not exactly listened to what Rafa has told him. He has left the Spaniard's room but he hasn't gone too far. He knows he is being curious and he knows he shouldn't lurk in the corridor like this but he wants to make sure Rafa is okay. He doesn't have to wait for long. It's less than ten minutes before Roger storms out of the room and the Swiss looks so angry his face is a mask of emotion when he shuts the door to Rafa's room rather forcefully and practically rushes down the corridor to get away as quickly as humanly possible. 

Stefanos thinks about what to do next for quite a while. He stands in the corridor, contemplating his choices. He could try to talk to Rafa again, could knock on his door and try to comfort the Spaniard. Somehow he doubts that will be helpful. The way Roger has reacted to him and with what little Rafa has told him, Stefanos knows he is part of the problem. Him being here tonight when Roger has come to talk to Rafa has only made matters worse. Talking to Rafa might help the Spaniard now but it will not produce any kind of solution. In order to achieve that talking to Rafa will not help. Stefanos needs to talk to Roger. 

He can wait, he knows that, but somehow he doubts waiting will help him to come up with the courage to do this. He barely knows Roger – or Rafa for that matter – but he likes, respects and pretty much adores both men, both for who they are as people as well as for all their accomplishments for the sport. He wants for both of them to be okay, to be happy and he knows he can achieve that, because he is part of their problem. Stefanos takes a deep breath... and then goes to follow Roger. 

Roger has barely closed the door to his suite behind him and has gone to the small fridge at the far end of the room to get himself a bottle of water, when there is a soft knock on his door. Somehow Roger doubts Rafa has followed him. He has made it abundantly clear that he doesn't want to talk to or even see the younger man anytime soon. He could ignore whoever is at his door right now, but he is curious. Roger places the bottle of water on the table by the TV and goes to open the door. He is barely able to hide back a groan when he sees who his visitor is. It seems Stefanos is his nemesis these days. He simply can't get rid of the younger man. 

“Did Rafa send you?”

“No. He doesn't know I'm doing this and if he did he would probably be angry with me and tell me he can fight his own battles.”

“But you decided to be his noble knight in shining armor and fight his battles for him anyway. How very old fashionedly romantic of you.”

Roger's voice is dripping with sarcasm and barely concealed venom and he actually feels a tiny bit of glee when Stefanos winces ever so slightly. But unlike before when the younger man had been at a loss for something useful and intelligent to say when Roger had come to Rafa's room and had found him there, Stefanos is not as lost for words this time. Obviously he has prepared what he wants to tell Roger, no matter how dismissive the Swiss is going to be to him. Stefanos actually smiles at him, though it is a small, guarded smile. 

“Look, I know you don't like me too much right now and I know you think me and Rafa we are having some sort of fling or something, but it's not like that.”

“Yes, of course you would say that.”

“We're friends, if at all and nothing else. We talked a little after our 4th round match, I came across him the day after and he seemed upset, so we went to have lunch together, and just know, when you came across us at Rafa's hotel room, I was there to drop off his damn cell phone. He had left it at the table at lunch and I didn't get a chance to return it to him earlier. There is nothing going on between us. I don't... swing that way.”

Stefanos blushes ever so softly as he says those last three words to Roger, revealing something entirely personal to the Swiss. Roger blinks at the younger man. He has never expected Stefanos to tell him something like this, something that is none of Roger's business. But then again the Greek knows about him and Rafa, so maybe he has thought it is only fair to let Roger in on a secret of his own. What Stefanos has to say, has so much enormity to it, Roger needs a moment to realize what it means. 

If the Greek isn't interested in men – and Roger is pretty sure Stefanos wouldn't lie to him about this – there is no reason for him to... make advances at Rafa. If he is not interested in Rafa – or any guy for that matter – he hasn't been to see the Spaniard for any kind of relations... And Rafa certainly wouldn't force himself on a man 12 years his junior without any chances for success. That simply isn't something Rafa would do. He's not the type of person to force somebody into compliance. So maybe... just maybe this is all exactly as innocent as Rafa has wanted Roger to believe. He blinks at Stefanos, trying to make sense of what the Greek has just told him. 

“Come again?”

“I'm not interested in guys, Roger. I mean Rafa is nice and all, but I would never want to be with him like you do. Not in a million years.”

*#*

Roger does not go to see Rafa again that same evening. He simply can't, even though he knows he should. But he feels too embarrassed and too much like an idiot and an ass to talk to the Spaniard again. He will apologize, Roger fully plans on that and he will do it before he leaves for home but he will not, not ever, leave Rafa without telling him how awful and sorry he feels about this whole damn mess they have managed to maneuver themselves into. 

It's the second night Roger doesn't sleep well and he is pretty sure it's the same for Rafa. But as long as they will find a way to forgive one another the next day, this one more night of restlessness and tossing and turning in a less than comfortable hotel bed is all worth it. His chance to talk to Rafa arises rather generically as they run into one another in the elevator the next day as they are both on their way to breakfast. When the doors open two floors down from where Roger has gotten on the elevator, Rafa is there and very much looks like he does not want to get inside the cabin with Roger when he sees him. Roger doesn't even think about what he says then. He simply does it. 

“I'm sorry.”

“What?”

Roger steps off the elevator before the doors close on them again. They are out in the corridor now but there is nobody there and even though this is not the way Roger has wanted to do this, he knows this is a chance he has to use. He is here, so is Rafa and right now nobody else is listening to them. It's as good a chance as any and Roger has promised himself that he will use whatever opportunity presents itself to him, to tell Rafa he believes him now and that he feels like a complete idiot for the way he has acted. He needs to tell the younger man he is sorry. 

“I acted like a complete and utter ass when you came to comfort me after the loss. I accused you of cheating, I accused you of gamesmanship and I didn't even realize it... And when I finally did manage to see what a complete and utter idiot I had been and how much I must have hurt you with what I said, I came to see you at your room and did it all over again. I'm sorry.”

“Why do you tell me now?”

“Stefanos came to talk to me.”

Rafa raises an eyebrow at Roger as this seems to be a piece of information he is utterly clueless about. Roger has expected as much. After all the Greek has told Roger he would go back to his room after they had talked last night. He hadn't returned to talk to Rafa as well. That is Roger's job. Rafa's facial expression is hard to read. Roger isn't quite sure if the Spaniard is displeased or happy with the way Stefanos has intervened on his behalf. His words reveal just as little. 

“That was... brave of him... and not what I wanted.”

“I know. He said as much. But it helped. He told me about your meetings and he said some things that helped me put things into perspective.”

Rafa is staring at Roger with that intense gaze he usually reserved for his on court performances. He is trying to make sense of what Roger is telling him and he is trying to decide how he feels about Roger's apology and what he wants to make of it. For now Rafa doesn't exactly seem inclined to accept Roger's apology. If at all the Swiss' explanation has managed to make the Spaniard feel even more hurt than before. Because Roger has just told him that Stefanos has managed to achieve something Rafa hadn't been able to. He has found the words to convince Roger. 

“You believe him but you do not believe me?”

“It's different with him.”

“How?”

“I don't love him. There are no feelings involved. Makes it easier to see things for what they are.”

Rafa smiles at him now – a very soft, very gentle smile and he looks unbelievably sad doing it. Roger knows he isn't making things exactly easier for himself. It's a difficult answer to a difficult question, but it is the truth. It's the emotion he and Rafa share that have made it so unbelievably difficult to see things for what they really are and be objective about the things he has witnessed. He probably never would have accused Rafa of any wrong doing, wouldn't he have such strong feelings for him. But then again if those feelings wouldn't exist, they never would have ended up in this mess in the first place. 

“So you treat me awful because you love me?”

“I know that doesn't make sense, but... it's how it is.”

Roger isn't sure he has found the right words or if it is enough to make Rafa feel any better about him and about the two of them as a couple. Rafa doesn't say so much as a single word for quite a while and Roger is almost sure the younger man is trying to punish him with his silence. But Rafa isn't trying to be hurtful or trying to come up with something to do in order to punish Roger for all the fighting and misunderstandings of the last 24 hours. He is simply taking his time to think. When he finally speaks up again, his voice sounds hollow even to his own ears. 

“You hurt me.”

“I know.”

“You accused me of gamesmanship and you accused me of cheating, of betrayal, of hurting you on purpose and without ever thinking about us... Do you really think of me like that?”

Roger immediately shakes his head. He has no idea what has ever gotten into him... Actually that's not true. He has just told Rafa what has gotten into him. It has been love – love and all those other really, very strong emotions he feels for Rafa. These feelings have brought them to this very moment in time, and even though they have hurt one another and they have made awful mistakes during the last day and a half, their emotions are also what keep them together... and this should be what brings them back to one another as well. 

“No, I don't. But I allowed my emotions and my impressions to win the better of me. I caught a glimpse of a couple of situations and I read them completely wrong... Can you... Will you forgive me?”

“Do you believe me now?”

“I do.”

“Do you... feel okay now?”

“I feel.. better about the match. I feel like an idiot about us though.”

“You should.”

Roger chuckles ever so softly. Rafa has always been able to point out the obvious and be quite blunt in doing so. Right now is no different. There is something Roger can do about all this though, something he can do to make Rafa feel more reassured about the two of them again. He can apologize – for real this time - and he can hope for Rafa to trust him enough to give him another chance. 

“I know... Can you try to love a jealous idiot?”

“Always.”

 

-FIN-


	5. All about the bride

It's an urge, an inner drive that makes Roger go for his cell phone and place the call. It's been a week since they have seen each other – still back in Melbourne – and it's been five days since they have last talked – since the final of the Australian Open. It feels like time to have some contact with one another again. It seems like a good idea. It is not... or maybe it is. In the end at least. The start of their phone call is a little.. rocky.

„Hola?“

„Rafa, hi... It's Roger.“

„Oh... Hi.“

„You sound stressed...“

„I'm getting married.“

At the other end of the line, Roger frowns. The fact that Rafa is getting married is not exactly news to Roger. It has been a sunny, way too warm day at Wimbledon out on the patio of Roger's rented house when Rafa had told him – haltingly, carefully and obviously a little worried about his reaction. There had been no need for that. Roger had been happy for the younger man. He wished nothing but happiness to the couple. Which was why Rafa's reply was more than just a little odd. 

“I know. It's not exactly news though.”

“It was to the rest of the world.”

“The rest of the world?”

“Haven't you heard?”

“Heard what? We were out at the beach with the kids all day...”

Rafa sighs deeply at the other en of the line. Obviously there is something Roger is missing. Something important. The younger man takes his time before he tells Roger what this is all about. Judging from the slight tremble in his voice, the Spaniard has a hard time relaying the news to him. He's definitely not happy about this, though Roger still doesn't quite understand why that is... He doesn't understand what the big fuss is all about.

“A Spanish magazine wrote about us. About the wedding.”

“So what?”

“What do you mean – so what?! This is my wedding, mine and Meri's. It's a private affair and it was supposed to stay private.” 

“How charmingly naive of you.”

Roger reacts without thinking and on the other end of the line Rafa goes very, very quiet. Roger feels an uncomfortable feeling settle in the pit of his stomach. Rafa being like this is never a good sign. Obviously Roger has gone too far, but this is how he feels. It's a wedding after all – with guests and people making it all happen – it's utopian to expect that not one of all the people involved would not be able to resist the temptation to talk about the event. Rafa reacts anything but happy to Roger's open assessment of the younger man's feelings.

“Excuse me?!”

“Rafa, how the hell did you expect this to stay a secret? There are friends and lots and lots of family members on both sides, there are caterers and florists and location proprietors and dressmakers and god knows who else, who is part of the planning and you expected nobody – not one of them – would talk? That is the epitome of naivete.”

“Thanks a lot.”

The Spaniard's voice I dripping with sarcasm and barely concealed aggravation. This hasn't been Roger's intent – not in the slightest What he wants to do is lend some perspective, not insult the younger man. He fears that Rafa will hang up on him and right now the younger man certainly needs somebody to talk to. So Roger hurries to explain his motives and intentions to Rafa. 

“I don't mean it as a criticism or an insult. It' just how it is. People talk... that's what they do.”

“They weren't supposed to.”

“I'm sorry...”

Instead of trying to convince Rafa to see things the way Roger does, the Swiss opts for a change in tactics. Rafa doesn't need him to tell him what to do or think. What he needs is a friend – somebody to listen and show sympathy. Telling him he feels for him seems to do the trick to a certain extent. Rafa is calmer now. And a bit more open about his feelings... and the aftermath of the leaked news. 

“I know. I'm just... angry and disappointed and frustrated. And I had a fight with Meri...”

“Why?”

“Because I was furious and annoyed by the media people bothering me and she seemed to think I was using it as... an excuse... We argued, we threw some harsh words around... It was bad...”

Roger feels his heart sink. This doesn't sound good at all and he can only hope the couple hasn't left things that way. Then again he knows the Spanish couple for quite a while now and holding a grudge against one another is not really something he would associate with them. But he isn't that close, doesn't know that much about their relationship. He's right at the source though – he can ask about the final outcome. 

“Did you make up?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

They are silent for a long moment. Roger wants to ask more questions, wants to pry about the details of the fight and the making up. But he knows he shouldn't. If Rafa wanted to tell him about any of this, he would do it. The fact that he doesn't means Roger shouldn't ask. Instead the Swiss decides to try and lighten the younger man's mood a little... and lend some more perspective through the use of humor. 

“You made a rookie mistake, you know that, don't you?”

“What do you mean?”

“You never should have told her you were bothered by the sudden media attention. The wedding is all about the bride. If she doesn't mind, neither should you. All that is expected of you is to put on some nice clothes, show up and say yes.”

“That's stupid.”

“But true. Believe me, I know. I'm a married man after all, I've done all this already.”

Rafa chuckles softly at the other end of the line, obviously appreciating Roger's effort to amuse him. Their conversation is cut short by another voice somewhere in the background. It's a female voice and Roger is pretty sure he recognizes it. He smiles despite the fact that Rafa can't see that. Obviously the couple is okay – otherwise Rafa's 'better half' wouldn't call for him. Roger asks to make sure. 

“Meri?”

“Yes.”

“You shouldn't keep her waiting. Remember...”

“It's all about the bride. I dress nicely, show up, say yes. I'll remember.”


	6. Impression

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I only realized reading a transcript of the IW press conferences that apparently Rafa might not play Madrid.  
> A plot bunny arose from that.   
> This is unbetaed but I hope you have fun with it anyway :D
> 
> If and when Rafa decides to play semis today, I might do a second oneshot later on tonight.  
> We'll see. *fingerscrossed*
> 
> <>°O°<>

*Indian Wells – 2019*

They have been on adjacent practice courts day after day now and of course they have taken the chance to talk here and there, but mostly Rafa has been focused on his preparation for the tournament and the matches to be played... and so has Roger. But it's a nice change up from precious tournaments. They are in the same place at the same time and Roger gets to – sort of – keep an eye on Rafa. That's good. It makes him happy.

What does not make him happy is Rafa's press conference after his 3rd round win against Diege Schwartzmann, when he is asked about his schedule for the remainder of this months and the clay court season onward from now. Rafa's answer is a vague one – as is so often the case when he is confronted with questions he doesn't really want to answer to – but Roger can't shake the feeling there is a lot more to Rafa's reluctance. And that he doesn't like one bit.

So on Thursday, when they meet in the locker room – after having practice scheduled on courts that are not adjacent this one time – Roger can't help but be nosy. He is not press, he is not going to print anything Rafa is going to tell him. With him, the Spaniard's plans for this season are safe. Though that doesn't mean Roger won't comment on them... or will like them for that matter. But he wants a real answer and he simply cannot help himself and be just a little confrontational when he asks Rafa about it... and manages to confuse the younger man in the process.

„One might be under the impression you're avoiding me...“

„Sorry?“

Madrid. I'm talking about Madrid, Rafa.“

If Rafa is pretending not to have any idea what Roger is talking about, he is doing a damn fine job at it. But Rafa has never been a good liar... or a great actor in that regard. Obviously Roger's questions are not making much of any sense to the Spaniard and he isn't sure whether to feel relieved or offended because of it. Rafa has to be aware of the fact, that the one clay court tournament he considers skipping is the only one Roger will play this year. Rafa can'T be that oblivious... but he seems to be... or he pretends really very well. 

„Si, what about it?“

„I'll play Madrid.“

„I know.“

And you won't.“

The frown on Rafa's face deepens at Roger's statement and something akin to disgust flashes across his face for just a second. Roger is making assumptions here and Rafa obviously isn't pleased about that. Not that Roger blames him. But Rafa has been the one who started all this, talking about his schedule on a couple of occasions and of course the Swiss feels shut out and excluded if Rafa decides to avoid playing the same tournaments as him. The Spaniard doesn't really have a clear answer for him and that doesn't make matters any better. 

„I never say I don't play Madrid. I say I need to think about my calendar for this year from week to week. See how I feel and adjust if I need to. Is all about longevity, no?“

„And you not being in Madrid enables you to play longer or better?“

„I never say I won't be there. Is just a rumor.“

Rafa doesn't have much of any tolerance for rumors. Most of the time they only cause problems. So Roger can only hope Rafa calling his potential withdrawal from the Masters in Madrid a rumor does mean he will be there after all and Roger has gotten worked up for no reason whatsoever. So he simply asks. The answer he gets is not the one he has wanted – not at all. 

„Yeah... So, you'll be there? In Madrid?“

„I don't know yet.“

„That's not a vague answer at all.“

Roger can't help but sound condescending. It's good they are alone in the locker room at this moment. Anyone else watching them or listening in on them would probably tell them they are acting like an old married couple, bickering... Rafa gives a sound that shows his frustration all too clearly in response to Roger's demand for reassurance. And then he rolls his eyes and says something that has nothing to do with the topic at hand whatsoever.

„We'll both be in Paris.“

„Yeah. Can't avoid that one, can't you. Record breaking 12th title and all that...“

„You are not nice.“

Rafa is not wrong. Roger has not been nice. Calling Rafa out on the fact, that – of course – he would like to win a 12th French Open title and will definitely be there, is not okay like this. It's not like it's a surprise anyway. Of course Rafa will be there for the Grand Slams if he can. But still Madrid and the fact that the French Open are a tournament Rafa would never skip, leaves a bitter aftertaste in Roger's mouth. He feels... cheated. 

„You won't play the one clay court tournament before the French Open I decided to show up at!“

„I just tell you...“

„Yes! I get it. You don't know yet.“

Roger stops the younger man before Rafa can tell him his standard press conference answer again, which is that he does not know which tournaments he will play and which he will skip because it depends on how he feels and how his health progresses throughout the year. It's not even an evasive answer. It's a prudent one. Still Roger huffs, can't help his frustration and Rafa actually looks hurt at that. The open display of emotion is sort of a game changer. And it makes Roger more open to admitting his own feelings as well. 

„Why are you so angry with me?“

„Because this sucks.“

The vague mention of 'this' obviously confuses Rafa just a little, as the younger man is unsure what exactly Roger is referring to. Their current situation? Their scheduling conflict? Their relationship in general? He definitely hopes it's not the latter. But Roger quickly reassures him, clarifying what he has meant to say. 

„Sorry?”

“Me and you. We haven't played a single match since autumn of 2017. It's been ages... I feel like I hardly ever see you around any more.“

„You see me all the time, Rogi. And last year was... not good. Too many injuries. Not enough tournaments for me to compete in or finish...“

„But you did good.“

Rafa nods at that, but it's a guarded reaction. It's true however. Rafa may not have played a lot of tournaments last year, but the ones he has played, he has mostly excelled at. But of course he can't be happy with that. Nine tournaments are nothing short of a joke given their year round calendar. But Rafa has done what was possible... what his health has permitted and of course that is something that weighs heavily on his mind. 

„When I could. Si. But is no surprise we play no matches like before. I was away and injured a lot...“

„Wimbledon would have been nice.“

„No use talking about the past. Is done now.“

„It sure is. Madrid however is in the future.“

Rafa groans again but it doesn't sound as frustrated as before any more. Actually there is a hint of humor to his reaction this time. But there is no doubt left, that the Spaniard doesn't want to have a repeat of their earlier conversation. This time Roger relents. He has a condition for Rafa to abide by though. 

„Not again...“

„Alright, alright. I'll stop, I give up. Just...“

„Si?“

„Just let me know okay? When you know? When you decide?“

„You'll be the first one I tell.“

Roger grins at that, mostly because it is such a hilarious thing for Rafa to say. It's not like his year round schedule is something he decides all by himself. Of course the final decision is Rafa's but he has a whole team around him that will weigh in on his choices, will discuss matters with him and will help him get to a decision. All of them will always know first. 

„Somehow I doubt that.“

Rafa smiles softly and a concentrated expression appears on his face now. Roger can practically see Rafa counting in his head – coach, physio, family – as he tries to determine how many people he will speak to before a final decision about his schedule will be reached... and he can tell Roger about it afterwards. When he is done calculating, Rafa grins a cheeky little smile at him.

„Okay, maybe not first. But top ten.“

„That's good enough for me.“

\- FIN -


	7. Not as we

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just needed to write down my thoughts after yesterday's withdrawal.  
> Unbetaed, just one really big rant to be honest.  
> But yesterday was gut wrenching and not okay and not how things were supposed to happen.  
> Rafa looked so damn sad in his press conference...  
> Here's to feeling betteer...
> 
> <>°O°<>

516\. 

Roger has actually made an effort to count the days. And it has been exactly 516 of them since he has last played a match against Rafa. Today should have marked the end of that streak of them never being at the same place at the same time or actually playing the same tournament but with one of them losing early. Today the set up has been perfect... until it hasn't. And Roger can't help it – he feels gutted, for the people expecting a great match, for him... and for Rafa of course.

His earlier reproach/joke from two days ago, that Rafa is avoiding him leaves a very bitter aftertaste thinking about it again now. This is certainly not how he has wanted for things to play out. He wants to play to win, not to gain from an injured opponent withdrawing. Especially not someone like Rafa – who had fought and clawed and not given up to be here for the semifinal today. But in the end it's all in vain and there is little to be done about it.

The thing with Rafa's knee is not a new problem. Actually it's a very old problem, but it never quite leaves the Spaniard alone. Sometimes he's okay, sometimes he's not and sometimes it's just too much – too much pain, too much limitation in his movements, too much risk of making things worse. Today is such a day. And that sucks – big time.

Up until this point, there have been only rumors. But of course he has been around for his own warm up and the fact that Rafa has cut his practice session short and that him and his team have all worn grim expression on their faces before talking to the tournament directors tells Roger everything he needs to know already. There will be no semifinal for them today. All Rafa is left to do, is make that official now. 

Rafa is around somewhere in the catacombs of court 1, Roger knows that. He has seen the younger man around, but they haven't talked yet. They will – inevitably. Even with a press conference going on right now, and Rafa telling all the world out there, that he will be unable to compete today, he will not simply walk out of here without talking to Roger as well. It will not be a pleasant conversation... 

They meet in the locker room, where Rafa goes after talking to the press, clearing his things out. It's depressing to watch, but what is even more disconcerting than the action, is the expression on the Spaniard's face. Roger has rarely ever seen Rafa so openly... vulnerable and sad and utterly devastated. Maybe after the Wimbledon final in 07. Maybe on the live coverage after having to give up in the semi final of last year's U.S. Open against del Potro. But not a lot of times. It's heart wrenching to see him like this. 

He understands of course. It's not like he has never been injured, it's not like he has never felt like this life is a curse more than a blessing. Which is probably what is going through Rafa's head right now. And he looks the part too. It's not fair. But sometimes fairness is not part of the game – or of life for that matter. Sometimes all there is left to do is to face the facts, endure and accept. Usually Rafa is good at that. God knows he has enough experience in that field. Right now he really isn't there yet. 

„Hey...“

Rafa looks at him when Roger announces his presence and Roger expects some sort of half hearted attempt to stow the feelings showing on his face away for just a second. But Rafa doesn't even try. He doesn't smile, doesn't try to stow away how he feels for his opponents sake. He simply gives Roger a nod, acknowledging his presence, and goes back to clearing out his stuff, all the while looking like he is about ready to damn well cry. Roger feels his stomach turn into painful knots. This is hard.

„I'm so sorry...“

„Is not your fault.“

„Still, I'm sorry. For you. For me. We deserved this...“

Roger tries his best to be patient with Rafa, who sounds very much dismissive. Of course this isn't Roger's fault – he knows that. It's nobody's fault really. It's a simple fact of the matter that sometimes Rafa's chronic problems flare up at the worst of times and today is such a day. There's nothing that can be done about it. And of course the Spaniard is devastated and sad and frustrated, but there is nobody to direct his anger at. 

Roger knows he probably shouldn't talk about feeling sorry for Rafa. Because the last thing the younger man wants from his, is pity. Talking about the unfairness of it all is probably not helping much either. But he has no idea what else to say. Because he IS sorry. And he feels the deserve better than this... Rafa is finally done with his packing job and for the first time since they talk, he really, fully looks at Roger. The Swiss has no idea how he hasn't noticed before, but Rafa looks exhausted... and a lot older than his – almost – 33 years of age. He watches as Rafa swallows hard and finally tells him what bothers him the most right now. 

„Is just like last year.“

„It's not. Last year you weren't even here.“

„Last year I couldn't compete, this year I can't compete. Feels the same to me.“

Rafa doesn't even want to hear any reassurances from him. He doesn't want a cheer up talk, he doesn't want to be told he will be fine and that he is doing better than last year. He is simply stating the facts as they present themselves to him and there is no changing his mind how he feels about that. Still Roger wants to say something positive, something that might help. Instead he ends up saying something dumb... 

„You will be okay though, right?“

„Is a chronic injury, Roger. I will not be okay.“

„Dumb question. Sorry.“

Silence falls between them and it is a little bit awkward. Roger has no idea what else to say. He has told Rafa he is sorry, he has told him things will be better in a little while and he has told him he wishes things would be different. There isn't much else he can offer in terms of comfort and quite frankly Rafa doesn't look like he wants it. He looks like he wants to get away, leave all this behind and return to the safety of his home, team and family... where he can come to terms with the problems life has thrown at him today. 

It's only later, when Roger catches a glimpse of the announcement Rafa has made in the wake of his withdrawal, that the Swiss understand Rafa's sadness and frustration is not reserved for him. It has shown through very clearly while talking to the press. Usually the younger man is better at hiding, better at deflecting, better at pretending he has taken the hit and is ready to move on... This time he hasn't bothered. Why should he? This is the utmost time he is hampered by something he has no control over. And that's not how it's supposed to go. He's a tennis player after all – he's supposed to play. But sometimes that's simply impossible. Like today.

It's also later that Roger becomes aware of the... finality of some of Rafa's statements in that press conference. Talking about how grateful he is, how happy and blessed for what the sport – and life in general – has held in store for him. It's a stale set of words, because even though Rafa tries to sound grateful, he really doesn't look the part. He looks frustrated and tired of having to deal with the same problem over and over again without ever finding a solution... 

Right there in the locker room, Roger is worried for the younger man a little, but of course he understands. Leaving the tournament – a tournament Rafa loves to play no less – like this is simply heartbreaking. But still the season has only just begun and there is a lot yet to achieve. Hopefully Rafa will focus on that. When he asks him, the Spaniard shrugs his shoulders. Evasive maneuvers are in place almost right away...

“So... no Miami?”

“No. I'm going home.”

“That's sensible... Monte Carlo is a month away. You'll be ready for that.”

“Yes. I'll try.”

Roger has meant to cheer Rafa up with his statement about the first mandatory clay court tournament of the season. He's even smiling doing it. But it's a gesture Rafa doesn't mirror and talking about Monte Carlo he sounds neither happy nor confident. Then again that can not be expected at the moment. Rafa simply needs time – to think, to process, to come to terms with yet another injury induced loss at a tournament. And then he will pick himself up, tell himself to stay positive and that will be that. Right now however, he's gutted at this godawful development he cannot change. Right now he is sad. And still there is graciousness in Rafa – even in defeat. 

„Good luck in the final.“

„Thanks...“

-FIN-


	8. Out of true

*April, 20th – Monte Carlo*

Rafa is happy and glad to be back to the safety of the confines of his hotel room after today's semifinal. Away from prying eyes, away from stupid questions, away from anyone and everyone who doesn't really know him and feels the need to add their two cents to his performance today. Or he would be happy if happiness were a real factor in his life today or these last couple of days for that matter. But the feelings that have been a constant in his life for the last week – and even before that – are misery and uncertainty, and today has done nothing to appease those emotions.

He is not alone at his room and he is glad and a little vexed about that fact at the same time. He doesn't like to be alone – especially not now with his gloomy thoughts – but at the same time he hates even the idea of yet another person who, undoubtedly, wants to talk to him about the match he has lost today. His fiance is with him and of course she wants to support him, help him gain perspective and cheer him up if she can. But it's not an easy task bestowed on her... and Rafa is nothing if not stubborn.

“I'm sorry...”

“No need. This... was horrible.”

“I wouldn't call it horrible. You played, you managed to not go down completely... and the weather was a factor.”

She means well, Rafa is very much aware of that, but Meri's words hold no solace for him. Yes, he hasn't been utterly obliterated by his opponent out there on the court today and yes the damn weather – with it's unpredictable shifts in wind – has been a factor. But it neither hides nor obliterates the fact, that he has been nowhere up to par out there today. His voice sounds a lot harsher than he intends and he tries to take the sting out of the words with a smile. He ends up with a grimace instead, but if Meri holds some sort of grudge, she doesn't let it show. 

“Excuses don't change anything. I played, I failed at it miserably and the end result is exactly what I deserved.”

“I hate that you're beating yourself up over this...”

“What else am I supposed to do? Be happy?”

“No, of course not... But how about the rest of the week? Prior to today?”

Rafa makes a dismissive gesture and gives an almost disgusted sound. Of course the other matches he has played this week have yielded a different outcome. Otherwise he wouldn't have been here to play the semifinal today. But that doesn't mean he is in any way happy with his performance. It's simply how he feels. Despite the obvious progression, despite his victories prior to today, he has never quite felt right, never like he has actually achieved what he has wanted. He has never felt deserving. Today his feelings coincide with reality for the first time and he has a hard time putting that into words.

“This whole week has been...”

“Not what you expected?”

“No. It's not that. Actually it's exactly the opposite. I expected nothing of this week and that is exactly what I got. Nothing..”

“You got to the semifinals. That has to count for something.”

Of course Meri would see things his way – she's more detached, less emotionally involved. She can see things more clearly... and somehow he resents her for that. Because it is something he desperately wishes for himself, but can't. Not right now anyway. Rafa tries his hardest to hide back a groan at the way she simplifies his experience this week. It doesn't help to argue or be cross with her. She doesn't deserve this and they will only both be miserable for it if he indulges. So instead he tries to make her see his truth.

“It really doesn't.”

“Why?”

“Because... because it doesn't feel right. As bad as today has been, it feels right. It's... adequate to how I feel.”

“And how is that?”

“Miserable.”

It's not the first time he admits to how he feels, because just like his team and family, Meri is concerned for him. But he lets them in on his bout of depression – because that is exactly what it is – only when being asked or been pressured to do so. Talking doesn't really help, doesn't change how he feels. But still he is glad for their support and their concern for him. He simply wishes they could actually make him feel better. But in he end – just like winning a match – that is something he has to achieve on his own.

The conversation he shares with his fiance lies at the end of a – rather long – week in Monte Carlo, his first full week back on tour after yet another lengthy injury break. He isn't ready – his team knows it, his family knows it and he knows it best of all. It isn't exactly the truth though. According to the doctor – strictly speaking about the physical side of things – he is ready. But he doesn't feel like it and that is the main problem. He lacks preparation, he lacks determination and above all else he lacks confidence. He doesn't trust the strength of his own body because it hasn't been tested yet, not really. Of course there has been practice but practice – even playing a mock match against Carlos or Tomeu – is not the same as an actual match in an actual tournament. They all know that. Hence the assessment – Rafa is not yet ready.

But there is little to no choice for him. Of course he could simply not go to Monte Carlo. He could withdraw from the tournament and give himself another two weeks. But he has been home and away from the tour for a month already and he does neither want nor need to add another half month to that time. But still he goes to the Principality of Monaco with mixed feelings. Of course he is excited and looking forward to the chance at competing on the highest level again. But at the same time he is anxious. Because his highest level is still sorely lacking.

He is glad he not only takes his team, but his family with him as well. They are his security net, one of the things in his life he can – unfalteringly – rely on. They help, but no matter how many family members he takes along and no matter how close they all are, they cannot help him out on the court. They can watch and root for him and cheer him on – loudly and passionately – but they can do nothing to improve his game or his mindset. Out there on the red dirt of the clay courts of Monte Carlo, he is all alone.

He arrives in Monte Carlo on a Friday which gives him ample time to prepare, adjust and practice on the courts of the tournament ground. At least that is what it should feel like. But it doesn't happen. None of his practices are exactly a fun affair. It is all a bit forced, a bit anxious, a bit too... much effort and too little smiles and happiness and an overall good feeling. Practicing doesn't give him the feeling to be prepared, to be competitive. Not as he should be. But as much as he tries, the feeling never quite reaches Rafa's expectations, and that is how the tournament starts for him.

Of course he tells none of that to the press. They would have a field day knowing how he really feels. Instead he is careful and guarded and tells them how he is supposed to feel instead of how he is really doing. Still an ounce of truth simply cannot be hidden away from the outside world and that is exactly how he deals with the media. He lets them know as little as possible but he never lies. He tells them he is happy to be back to the tour, the sport, the competition. But he also tells them this timeout forced on him by yet another injury has been tough and that he can only hope to be ready. Nobody seems to draw the obvious conclusions from his guarded words though. And the simple fact remains, that Rafa never feels quite ready.

His first match is a rather comfortable and easy win by the score of it. He plays against an opponent who is a fellow Spanish countrymen and wins the match 6:1, 6:1. Judging from the score, he should be happy, he should be content and he should regain some of the confidence he has lost over the time it has taken for his latest injury to heal. Bu the feeling never really settles for Rafa. He still isn't happy, isn't confident, doesn't really trust his movement - and his mindset never settles in the right spot. This whole week in Monte Carlo seems like a losing battle to him and that is definitely not the kind of predisposition he wants to be left with. But things are what they are. 

The second win doesn't come just as easy as the first. But it is still a rather comfortable straight sets win with only one break in the first and a couple of them in the second set. Still – even with match practice under his belt now – Rafa still never feels quite “At home”on those clay courts he has won so many titles on. He feels inadequate, frustrated and – above all else – he feels miserable. Of course those feelings have to start to show at some point. And they do – in his quarter final match. 

It is his third match against an opponent younger than him, who has come here with four clay court tournaments already played this season and having won one of them. It is a demanding experience – both mentally and physically and the damn weather doesn't help one bit either. It has been too cold, to overcast, too windy for the entire week and it bothers Rafa more than it should. It definitely bothers him more than it does his opponent. Or at least that is what it feels like to the Spaniard.

In the end it's another straight sets win and Rafa is through to the semifinal but he never feels like he deserves what he has achieved. His team and family try to tell him otherwise, try to cheer him up and make him feel better. But all they have to offer in the end, are words. Words don't mean anything – at least not right there, right now. Actions are what counts. But – as Rafa is very much aware – out on court, playing a match, the only actions he can rely on are his own. So as much as the people around him try to help, they really can't. Not if he can't bring himself to let his own actions follow their words.

He wants to, of course. He feels that he tries. But it's in vain... and then there is the semifinal... and nothing works in his favor. His opponent has a great day and there is the problem with the weather, with the wind again. But it's an obstacle they both have to deal with and Rafa fails at that rather spectacularly and time and again. The final result reflects exactly that – failure. He loses – and he deserves to lose. That is what he tells his team, tells his family, tells the press. It is exactly what he tells his fiance upon their return to the hotel. His match against Fognini is one of the worst he has ever played, one he has no excuse for and cannot take anything positive away from. Or maybe he can. Because as awful as he feels about his performance – it can only go upwards from there.


	9. Out of commission

*May, 5th - Madrid*

Admittedly Rafa has been feeling a little out of sorts, a little under the weather for a while before the special ceremony for David already. But he still has been well enough to attend and be a part of it. This is not about him after all and David deserves a proper farewell. But something shifts almost as soon as the ceremony is underway and the slight discomfort turns into something way more pronounced and sharper. The onset is a rather sudden one and Rafa feels dizzy and nauseous and simply sick.

They are supposed to stay a little while longer after the ceremony is over – mingling, talking, reveling in the fact that this is the last tournament David will ever be a part of. And a little while after that, Rafa is supposed to be there for his scheduled practice session. In reality though, there is no way he will do either of those things. There is a very real chance he will empty the contents of his stomach somewhere around the tournament grounds, if he doesn't get out of the sun and back into his hotel bed anytime soon.

So when the official part of the ceremony is over, Rafa takes a quick moment to talk to David and explain to him that he is very sorry, but that he needs to leave. Of course the older man is a little disappointed but he understands. However he isn't the only one realizing Rafa is about to leave. Roger – who Rafa has been standing next to throughout the ceremony – notices as well. And he is not as easily dissuaded as David. He doesn't simply let Rafa go, but tries to find out what him leaving early from this ceremony in honor of Rafa's fellow Spanish countryman and former Davis Cup comrade does mean.

“Where are you off to?”

“Hotel.”

Rafa's reply is curt, clipped and just a little bit dismissive. He is not exactly polite ad the frown appearing on Roger's face very much reflects exactly that. Surprise - at the bit of rudeness Rafa displays. Right now however, the younger man couldn't care less. He needs to get out of here, needs to get away. Preferably before his body wins over his mind and he pukes right on Roger's shoes. He gives the older man a – hopefully – apologetic smile and then he turns to leave, leaving Roger standing, staring and wondering.

The rest of Rafa's day is not exactly pleasant. It is probably the shift in warmth from the heat of the sun resonating on the clay courts at the tournament grounds to the air conditioned coldness of his hotel room, that sets both his senses and his body into overdrive. The dizziness increases, so does the nausea and there is no more chance to stop his earlier – and unfortunately rater lavish – breakfast from coming back up again. It's awful and exhausting and he feels bone tired when he is finally done retching everything up he has eaten his past week. At least that's what it feels like to him.

He's sick, he's tired and just a tiny bit feverish and when he tells his physio, he knows his team confers and decides to send a doctor his way. It's not exactly necessary. It's a simple stomach bug, a bout of a flu as is bound to happen from time to time when traveling from place to place and eating out all the time. There has to have been an under-cooked, badly prepared meal somewhere... and usually that is all it takes. There is no denying that Rafa is a little prone to these kind of problems. He has dealt with them on numerous occasions in the past. But still – or maybe because of that – he hates it every time it happens.

Unfortunately – but as always – there is little to nothing the doctor can do for him. The illness has to run it's course and will probably be over and done within a day or two. In the meantime he's supposed to drink plenty of fluids, keep his electrolytes in check and take it easy, which means staying in bed doing nothing strenuous whatsoever, until he feels better. The doctor prescribes something to help the intestinal tract deal with this onslaught of bacteria and something to keep the nausea at bay. And that is that.

*#*

Roger has no idea what has possessed him to do this, but he feels the utter need to check on Rafa, simply to make sure the younger man is alright. Back at the tournament grounds earlier today, Rafa had looked a little pale and he had been rather dismissive when Roger had asked him about the fact that Rafa was leaving. It was only later he had found out Rafa had canceled his afternoon practice session as well... There is no denying Roger feels worried and he wants to quell that worry – it being appropriate or not be damned.

The clerk at the reception desk is kind – or maybe stupid and uncaring – enough to tell him which room to go to and that is exactly what Roger does. Knocking on the door to Rafa's room rather gently does not produce an immediate result. It's a little past seven in the evening now and Roger has no idea where else Rafa could be if not here. After all he said this was where he said he was going and he certainly isn't out for dinner yet. It's way too early.

Before Roger gets the chance to try again and knock a second time, the door is being opened on him. It isn't Rafa opening up on him though, but the younger man's physio, who looks a little startled at Roger's appearance here. But he quickly recovers from the surprise and obviously decides to make the best of this somewhat unexpected visitor. As it turns out, Rafa's physio has an errand to run and he needs someone to... babysit his charge.

“Roger, hi...”

“Hi. Rafa not coming to the door obviously means he's not here?”

“He is. He simply isn't well. Stomach bug.”

Roger gives a sound of sympathy at that. It has happened to him a number of times before as well and being ill like this has NEVER been pleasant. He feels for Rafa, but in the end that is probably what the Spaniard's physio counts on, roping Roger into lending a helping hand. It's not that the Swiss would mind though. After all he came to check on Rafa anyway and that is precisely what he is being asked to do now.

“Could you stay with him for a couple of minutes? The doctor prescribed some meds to help with the nausea, but I have to go to a pharmacy in order to get them. There's nobody else around to look out for him at the moment... Please?”

“Of course!”

“Thanks.”

Roger is given a quick instruction – being let in on the fact that Rafa is in his bedroom, that he is feeling quite tired and still pretty dizzy and that he is supposed to stay in bed and drink plenty of fluids, whether he feels up to that or not. Roger is pretty sure he cannot get Rafa to do anything he doesn't want to do, but he can look out for the younger man. And in the end that is all that has been asked of him.

Stepping into the hotel room and closing the door behind him, Roger can't help but feel like an intruder. He shouldn't be here like this, not all on his own, not with Rafa sick and in bed in the next room. But now that he has agreed to play chaperon and nurse, there really is no turning back. So Roger decides to simply embrace the situation... and opens the door to Rafa's bedroom, stepping inside.

The dim rays of the low, setting sun on this late afternoon are the only thing illuminating the room but they provide enough light for Roger to make out the younger man sitting upright in bed, looking both exhausted and very much pale. Rafa frowns at him upon the realization who his visitor is and Roger can't help but tease the Spaniard just a little. It's all in good nature though and it is more a display of worry than humor. Rafa truly looks the part of somebody sick with a nasty bug...

“Rogi... What are you doing here?”

“I came to check on you. Rightfully so, I'd say. You look awful...”

“Thank you very much.”

Rafa lacks the energy to sound sharp, but the sarcasm clearly shines through in his words. He does however not sound in the least uncomfortable or embarrassed to have Roger here. Actually he sounds almost... pleased. At least enough so that Roger feels inclined to settle on the very edge of the bed, giving Rafa a lob-sided smile and trying to take the sting out of his previous words. After all, the last thing he has meant to do is to insult the younger man.

“I didn't mean it like this. I just... How are you?”

“Like I look.”

“Well, touche...”

Roger grins at Rafa's sardonic reply and the younger man smiles a soft tired smile at him. Roger deserves that kind of straightforward and just a tiny bit condescending answer, he supposes. After all he hasn't exactly been nice before. They fall silent again after that and the tone of their conversation changes when Roger picks it back up again. They are more serious now, more focused on what is going on with Rafa and how soon he will be back to his healthy self.

“Will you be alright?”

“In a day or two, yes.”

“Not really your clay court season thus far, wouldn't you say?”

Roger doesn't mean to be blunt but he can't help but state the rather obvious facts. Compared to previous years, this clay court season has been a disaster for Rafa so far. Of course from a more objective, more... rational point of view it is still a clay court season result most professional players would fight, die or kill for. But with Rafa it's different somehow. Still the Spaniard makes a face at the older man's assumption. Rafa's answer however takes Roger completely by surprise. 

“Maybe it's your fault.”

“Come again?”

“You're the one thing that has changed. You weren't playing clay tournaments last year and I was fine. But now you are...”

Rafa looks dead serious saying the words and for a moment there, Roger is pretty sure the younger man is trying to insult him. It takes a little moment longer for the Swiss to detect that soft gleam in Rafa's eyes. It's obscured by the fact, that Rafa looks both pale and tired, but it is definitely there. Still Roger is careful in his approach, trying to verify what he believes to be the truth.

“Are you teasing me?!”

A soft grin spreads on the younger man's face now and the slight discomfort Roger has been feeling at Rafa's rather blunt reply vanishes in an instant. Rafa actually shrugs his shoulders, managing to look entirely innocent while doing so.

“Maybe.”

“You can't be that sick if you're still able to tease.”

Rafa smiles ever so softly at Roger's jib, but he never gets a chance to answer. Because his physio must have pretty much flown to the nearest pharmacy to get the medication needed and is back already and has stepped into Rafa's bedroom. The two Spaniards exchange a couple of words in Mallorquin and then Rafa' physio turns to face Roger, giving him an appreciative smile.

“Thank you for doing this.”

“No problem. Take good care of him.”

“We will.”

This is goodbye now, Roger knows it and Rafa's physio is not exactly subtle in letting him know it is time for him to go. But Rafa is sick after all and he is supposed to take the meds being brought to him and he is supposed to rest. Roger sitting here, teasing and bickering, will not help Rafa get better. So he gets up, raises his hand in goodbye and walks. He is almost at the door to Rafa's bedroom when the younger man calls out to him and makes him turn back around once more. 

“Roger?”

“Yes?”

“It's good to have you here.”


	10. Out of balance

*May, 11th - Madrid*

It's yet another clay court tournament, yet another semi final, yet another match against the young Greek player, who has been up and coming for a while now. And Stefanos seems to feel the need to prove himself. He is determined to win, he gives it his all, stubbornly fights his way through rallies that should have been over for three or four shots already, winning points he shouldn't possibly be able to win. He is focused, he is motivated and he plays an aggressive game that gives Rafa little to no rhythm to draw from.

It's a good match, a competitive one and the quality of it is inspiring. They take it to the limit, take it to three sets, the momentum falling this way and that throughout. But in the end the big points, the moments throughout the match that really count, are what break Rafa's back. He simply cannot come out on top in these moments, cannot win those decisive points for himself. In the end the young Greek wins in three sets and he is more than happy to finally have achieved a feat that has been a long time in the making.

It's his second attempt this year, his fourth overall and every other time they have played a match against one another, Rafa has won. Coincidentally, those have always been important moments for the both of them – the final in Toronto last year, marking Rafa's first hard court Masters title in 5 years, the final in Barcelona before that and the semi final at the Australian Open this year – a victory, that had brought Rafa to tears afterwards and that he had needed a moment to recover from and find his composure again... It was safe to say they tended to meet for important matches and today certainly was no exception.

But unlike all those other times, Rafa did not leave the court the victor today. Still he could not bring himself to be angry about it. Of course he was disappointed, of course he would have preferred a different outcome. But from Monte Carlo, through Barcelona to standing here on the courts of Madrid tonight, the progression he had made, had been a positive one. He had neither felt happy nor confident going into this clay court season. Playing tennis had been a chore more than anything and it had taken a while for him to rediscover his joy and love of the game.

Rafa feels he has improved with each tournament he has played. Granted, his result has been the same every time – three semi final losses in as many tournaments – but the feelings that had accompanied each loss had been entirely different ones. Dubbing his semifinal match in Monte Carlo the worst of his clay court matches in 14 years has not been an exaggeration. He still feels that way about it and he doesn't think he will ever feel different. It had been a disaster of a match. In Barcelona he had felt better about himself – more confident, more ready. Tonight – Rafa feels - has been a fluke, a bout of bad luck and timing. Because he has been better in his previous matches and had he been able to keep that momentum and find that same level tonight, he would have been able to prevail. But it seems it hasn't been meant to be.

It is pretty much what he tells the media when they ask him during the press conference after the match. He knows he is supposed to say something nice about Stefanos and of course he doesn't mean to be vindictive or egotistical or a sore loser. He chooses his words carefully, but still he doesn't want to hide the way he feels. He could have won this match today if only his level of play had been just a little bit better. But it hasn't. It's not that his game has failed him, but the big points have not been his strong suit today. And therefore he is the – deserving – runner up of this. He could have done better... and that is what he tell the press.

It's a little curious that he runs into Stefanos again in the locker room after the press conference is over. He has left his things there and only comes in to pick them up and it seems the Greek is about to do the same. It's a slightly awkward moment though it really shouldn't be. After all the match is over and there is no animosity between them. But still, when Rafa comes to pick up his stuff and greets the younger man, Stefanos gives a response, that is more of a huff than anything else and has a very sour expression on his face, that leaves Rafa both surprised and just a little mystified.

This is the same young man who has been beaming with both joy and pride over his victory just a little over an hour ago... The same Stefanos, who has been so happy and who has worn that disbelieving smile on his face pretty much ever since he has won match point. He looks quite displeased and sullen now. A reaction Rafa definitely cannot understand. And despite the fact that they were opponents just a little while ago and that he doesn't know Stefanos on a personal level all that well, he simply cannot walk away without at least inquiring after the other man's well being. It's the polite thing to do after all.

So instead of ignoring the younger man's sudden and rather inexplicable bad mood, Rafa stops and looks at the Greek and tries to coax him into telling him what the problem is. It's not that easy, it seems. Because for some very odd reason, Rafa is obviously part of the problem. Otherwise he has no way of explaining the way Stefanos looks at him or the cool, almost hostile tone to his voice when he replies, words dripping with sarcasm.

“Are you alright?”

“I won. Why wouldn't I be?”

“You don't look happy...”

“No. Not any more.”

Stefanos doesn't elaborate, doesn't give Rafa any clue what his words are supposed to mean. It's like a guessing game, one Rafa truly doesn't feel inclined to play. It's way after midnight, a new day already and all he wants is a light – and rather late – dinner and a good night's sleep afterwards, before traveling to Rome tomorrow. But he has started this conversation, he can't very well simply turn away from it now. Still Rafa cannot help a mild tone of both irritation and impatience to seep into his voice.

“Why?”

“You called me 'talented'... again.”

“Yes?”

“Only you could veil an insult as a compliment. But I never expected you to lie about it to my face afterwards...”

Stefanos sounds really angry and insulted now and Rafa has no clue what the hell is wrong with the younger man. Accusing him both of insulting the Greek and of lying to him is both unjustified and very much ridiculous. Rafa has done neither of those tings, at least not to his own knowledge. But this isn't a matter of truth, that much he is aware of. It's a matter of perception. But even if it is simply about them seeing things differently, Rafa still doesn't get what the problem is. It is true he has called Stefanos 'talented' tonight and on a number of other occasions. He fails to see how that is in any way an insult though. It is indeed a compliment and it has never been meant as anything else but that. Stefanos' hostility towards him – especially over something that has been meant in the nicest of ways – simply makes no sense whatsoever.

“I don't understand....”

“Talent means nothing.”

“Of course it does. You can't get anywhere in professional sport without talent.”

Stefanos gives him a hard stare in response to Rafa's reply, looking very much like he doesn't believe a word of what the Spaniard is telling him. It feels a little like Alice in Wonderland – falling down the rabbit hole and landing in an utterly strange world. Stefanos still isn't making any sense. Actually it seems very much like up is down at the moment. Why on earth would the Greek believe accrediting talent to someone is an insult? And why would he call talent unimportant? As it turns out there is a rather simple explanation... and it has to do with Rafa's own work ethic when it comes to practice and matches. It is – however – a very simplified way of looking at his every day values. 

“You don't really believe that though, don't you? You believe in work ethic, in the right kind of feeling, in persistence in order to prevail.”

“Yes, all of that. But I never said talent didn't matter.”

“You did say your loss was all about you and nothing about me.”

“I did not. I said it's how I feel.”

Rafa is giving a rather pithy answer here, because in fact he hasn't really said it has been all about him and nothing about Stefanos. He has said he feels it was more about him tonight. But the Greek is emotional, so to him it is probably just semantics. Rafa reminding Stefanos that he has stated a – by nature – very much personal opinion, does nothing to appease the younger man. In fact all it seems to do, is make the whole situation worse. Stefanos crosses his arms in front of his chest – giving the impression of a petulant child – and glares at Rafa again, not even trying to hide the anger seeping into his voice now.

“So I should have lost jut as badly and crushingly as I did in Melbourne and just because you didn't quite feel right today, I did not, is it that? Did you gift me the win? Grant it to me?”

“I did the best I could today. But it is not the best I can do. That is what I meant. I could have been better.”

“What makes you so sure that would have made a difference?”

“It doesn't. As I said - it's just my feeling.”

Stefanos makes an almost disgusted sound at that and Rafa briefly wonders if the younger man is aware his whole behavior has been very much insulting ever since they started this ridiculous conversation. Rafa can get over that though. He doesn't even blame Stefanos for it. The younger man is emotional after all and sometimes emotion – good or bad ones – tend to blind one's sense for reality. What Rafa doesn't understand – still doesn't to be precise - is the reason for it all. This has been the Greek's match as much as his and Stefanos should be focused on himself, on his own achievement and on the final that still lies ahead of him. Instead he is dead set on focusing on what Rafa has had to say about him... and the reasoning for that still utterly escapes the Spaniard.

“Why does it matter what I said? I'm not your coach or your team or your family or your close friend... Why would you care?”

“Because I do.”

There is something unspoken here, something the younger man does not want to let on. Maybe it is pride not allowing him to tell Rafa, maybe it is some other emotion. The Spaniard isn't quite sure. It almost seems like Stefanos is expecting praise from him... though Rafa still cannot fathom why that would matter to the younger man. He has beaten Rafa after all, why would his opponent's praise mean anything? Clearly Stefanos has been the better player tonight... That is what he should focus on, instead of being hung up on the particulars of Rafa's press conference. It's the media after all – it's a minefield one has to be careful in. Stefanos knows that, and he should know not to put too much stock in what is being said in those media gatherings. But clearly he does...

“You shouldn't. You won tonight. You played the better match. You achieved what you wanted and I did not. This is your victory, your chance at the final, at the trophy. This isn't about me.”

“No. No, it's not.”

Maybe he should try again, maybe he should try to coax the Greek into telling him what is still on his mind, marring his features, making him look glum instead of happy. But Rafa decides not to. They are both grown up. If Stefanos wants to keep his feelings to himself, so be it. Maybe, some other time, the Greek will be more forthcoming with him. For Rafa there is only one thing left to do. He picks up his bags, gives Stefanos an – albeit half-hearted - smile and is ready to leave, doing the polite thing and wishing the Greek all the best for tomorrow's last match of this tournament.

“Good luck in the final.”


	11. Final(ly)

*May, 19th – Rome*

When the match is over, the last point played, his exchange with Novak as well as with the chair umpire behind him, Rafa allows himself a brief moment for his emotions to fully and completely take him over. It's joy and happiness of course, but there are other emotions thrown into the mix. Satisfaction of course, determination... and just a tiny bit of relief. This has been a long time in the making, but now he has managed to do, what everybody has expected of him to do since the start of the clay court season. He has won a tournament.

That is the final result, but of course there has been a long road of steady progression behind him that has come to its logical conclusion today. He hasn't felt happy or content or even ready back in Monte Carlo. The injury that had prevented him from finishing the tournament in Indian Wells had hampered his clay court preparation and it had caused a mental low he had needed time to recover from. Unfortunately that time had been during and in between tournaments and that had not exactly been good timing...

But despite the things he had worked through, he had been able to reach favorable results. Reaching semifinals in each of the clay court tournaments he had played prior to Rome certainly hadn't been a bad result, but it had been worse than in previous years. He has been telling people over and over the way this particular clay court season has been going, is normal and that all those previous years have been the exception. Because winning all those tournaments year after year, is not the normal routine.

It hadn't been an easy way to this final – despite what the scoreline of his matches said. But he managed to win two matches back to back on Thursday, after all of Wednesdays matches had been canceled. Winning his quarter final match was a little more of an effort and in his semi final against Stefanos he got the chance to remedy last week's result in Madrid. 

The match against Novak is a bit of a strange occurrence. The Serb doesn't win a single game in the first set and for some reason, that manages to make Rafa nervous enough to lose his focus in the second set. They go to a third set and this one is more comfortable again. Rafa wins... and it feels great.

Still the feeling remains that everything is as it should be right now. A deeper darker voice inside of him even proclaims, that now everything is as it should have been from the start. Of course it's a vain thought, a wrong one and Rafa decides not to dwell on it. From a month ago to right now, he has constantly been improving – with his game, with his confidence and with his enjoyment of the game – and that is great. Today is a good day. And he is happy with himself.

He goes back to Mallorca the very same day – as soon as humanly possible in fact and he can't wait to reach home soil again. After almost a month of constant traveling, of sleeping in different beds that all smell foreign and of too much detergent with every new tournament, every new week, he looks forward to being in his own home and his own bed, more than he could ever put into words. It will only be for a couple of days and maybe that stopover is impractical, but it is what he needs.

It's a chance to be home, a chance to simply be himself – away from the media circus and all those nosy questions, the prying eyes and the scrutiny on both his person and his game. It's what he needs – an opportunity to take a breather before the start of the French Open, the one clay court tournament still left to play, the most important one of all of them. But above all else he wants some time to spend with friends and family.

Of course he has been accompanied by his team and different members of his family for each tournament and it will only be three days that he is going to spend at home. But still, being on his home island is entirely different than being on tour. He is going to get a chance to spend time with his fiance again as well. Meri has gone back home after Madrid. She has work after all. She is at the house in Porto Cristo when he returns home late on Sunday afternoon though and she is happy to see him – happy and in a slightly teasing mood.

“You are smiling.”

“I'm home. I won a tournament. I feel good. What is there not to smile about?”

“No more misery?”

“No.”

“Good.”

Her last statement is followed by her stepping up to him and rising to the tip of her toes, smiling expectantly. Rafa gets the hint of course. They kiss – slowly, softly, gently, affectionately and with no rush whatsoever. They do have three days together after all and Meri will most definitely come with him to Paris. It's a good thing she'll be there, just as it's a good thing his family will be there, and just like it's a good thing Rafa has won the tournament in Rome and has shut up everybody's worries and doubts... just as much as his own. Now he feels really and truly ready ...


	12. Uninspired presents

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick word of explanation - Juan Monaco (nicknamed Pico) apparently was in Paris on the day of Rafa's birthday. That is why he makes an appearance here. 
> 
> *#*

3rd of June - Paris, France.

It's late – very late in fact - when Roger makes his way to Rafa's hotel room. It's only another 45 minutes to this third of June, which means in 46 minutes Rafa's birthday is over. Roger wants a chance to talk to the Spaniard and hand over his – not exactly thoughtful – presents before the deadline. He would have come here earlier, but Rafa has been out for most of the evening, celebrating his birthday with friends and family... and sending a post of it via social networks.

Roger knows there is no need to be jealous. Unlike Rafa's family and team and friend, he can't just walk up to the Spaniard in public, bestow a gift upon him, pull him into a bear hug and wish him a happy birthday. Because that would immediately alert the media and then there would be hell to pay. They need to be covert, they need to be secretive and that is exactly what Roger's late appearance at Rafa's hotel room is all about. He is all he can be for Rafa.

When he reaches the younger man's hotel room, it takes a little while before the younger man opens the door. Roger is about to leave again when Rafa finally opens the door on him. He half expects the younger man to be asleep already. But he is wrong. As it turns out, Rafa is simply tardy – like he has been so many other times in his life. Roger tries his best not to sound irritated. This is Rafa's birthday after all. The least he deserves is a little bit of leniency. So Roger opts for a soft smile instead of an irritated frown.

“Hi...”

“You're late, Rogi.”

“I know. I'm sorry. I... You look flushed! Are you okay?”

Roger is truly worried for just a second there. There is a soft redness to Rafa's cheeks, Roger has rarely ever seen there like this before. He has seen it of course, but only when Rafa has been really sick with a rather severe fever. He is pretty sure Rafa is not suffering from a fever now. There is a – barely detectable – slur to his speech and his accent is a lot thicker than it usually is. And Rafa is candid than Roger is used to hear from him. As it turns out, alcohol plays a big part in that. But it seems the Spaniard still feels he has done and said nothing wrong – tipsiness or not.

“I had a little wine... and a lot of sex.”

“Rafa!”

“What? It's just sex, Rogi.”

It sounds almost like Rafa is trying to bait him, getting him to admit to the fact that all Roger has come here for, is the very same thing Rafa has already received as a birthday gift. But the Swiss isn't quite there yet. Instead, he is very much jealous. He knows he sounds a little sour and confrontational, but he can't help himself. Whether it is the wine or the high from the sexual encounter, Roger cannot be sure. Either way Rafa doesn't even recognize his sarcasm.

“Pico or Meri?”

“It's my birthday, Rogi.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I don't have to choose.”

Roger swallows hard, unable to formulate an answer. The last thing he has ever expected from Rafa – a very contained, careful, usually shy and restrained Rafa – to tell him he has had sex with the woman he loves as well as with a long term friend and - from the sound of it – with both of them at the very same time. Even the imagery sends Roger into a frenzy... of both arousal and yet more jealousy. He tries his hardest to change the subject but the tremble in his voice betrays his feelings and Rafa smiles a rather knowing smile, trying to coax and encourage the older man. But this time Roger doesn't take the bait. He does indeed manage to change the subject.

“I brought you a bottle of wine.”

“I already had that.”

“And...”

Roger – who feels quite a little bit silly doing it - lets his hand hover right next to his body and moves them down from his chest to his hips with a slightly awkward smile on his face that is meant to be alluring. He isn't exactly sure he manages to achieve his goal. Because instead of being misty eyed, Rafa grins back at him. But Roger doesn't allow himself to be deterred. After all he has come her both to congratulate Rafa on his birthday... and bestow a gift upon him. Roger mirrors the smile, actually feeling more confident about his ability to be enticing this time.

“Round 2.”

“I already had round 2.”

Roger frowns at the Spaniard's response and this time it seems Rafa is very much unable to hide back a chuckle. Roger blames the wine. He feels disappointed but he doesn't want to let it show. Instead he tries his hardest to act as if he is unaffected. He is not though and he makes for a very poor actor. Even through the alcohol induced stupor Rafa sees right through him... and is actually teasing him for dwelling in his own self pity.

“And here I was thinking wine and offering myself to you would be a good idea.”

“It IS a good idea. But a boring one. Shame on you, Rogi. So little creativity.”

Rafa is actually giggling now, a reaction Roger has rarely ever seen or heard of the Spaniard. Apparently it has been more than just a little wine and Rafa is more than just a little tipsy. It irritates Roger, especially because the Spaniard decides to make a joke of his efforts to present him with a proper and heartfelt birthday gift. But Rafa is nowhere near admitting to his faults and even Roger's rather blunt and sour tone, don't do anything to remedy that. Actually Rafa is quite... forcefully in his pursuit of more to gain from the Swiss on his special day today.

“You are drunk.”

“No. Not drunk. Tipsy. You have anything else?”

Roger holds out a little wrapped package to him, that he has brought with him and that gets Rafa's attention right away. Obviously the younger man has not expected Roger to come up with yet another ace up his sleeve. But Rafa should know better than to doubt the Swiss ability to always go the extra mile when it comes to making sure he finds a birthday gift that both surprises and satisfies Rafa. Tonight is no exception. Roger holds out the present for Rafa to take, which the younger man does, both amusement and curiosity shining on his face.

“How about this?”

“What is it?”

“Swiss chocolate. Lindt.”

It's not exactly an exotic or elaborate gift either, but Roger knows it doesn't have to be. Rafa loves chocolate, and Roger has easy access to it. So that is what he brings, because the Swiss knows it always brings a smile to the other man's face. He is not being disappointed this time either. Rafa takes the chocolate, handles it like delicate china, and smiles that wide, boyish, infectious smile of his.

“I haven't had chocolate before.”

“See, not that boring after all. How about chocolate and my company? How does that sound?”

Instead of an answer, Rafa opens the door a little wider, gesturing for Roger to follow him inside. There is definitely a remnant of some kind of high – be it the alcohol of the wine or the ecstasy of the sex – because Rafa's movements seem a little uncoordinated and he puts little thought into this invitation. After all it is late and Roger expects Rafa not to be alone in his hotel room. There is probably a very exhausted woman sleeping in the bedroom... But Rafa either doesn't mind or is unaware of that simple fact. Pointing it out to him produces a reply Roger has not expected. 

“Come in.”

“What about Meri?”

“She's next door in Pico's room. I asked them to sleep there.”

Roger can't help but feel flattered at the explanation. Rafa sounds matter-of-factly telling him, but there is no doubt in Roger's mind, that the Spaniard has expected him, has hoped and wished for him to come by today – before the younger man's birthday is actually over – and therefore he has sent the woman, he loves and has decided to spend the rest of his life with, to the neighboring room. It is a nice gesture, though Roger doubts Rafa is aware of the severity of it. He doubts Meri is aware of it either. The two are too... straightforward and nice and innocent for something like this. They have simply done it to be friendly and accommodating, no other strings attached. Roger clears his throat, trying not to let his affection and appreciation show too much.

”You knew I would come...”

“Si. Of course.”

Rafa is grinning again but it is a little more mischievous and less silly this time. And there is something very much inviting and almost... predatory about the look Rafa gives the Swiss when Roger finally steps over the threshold and closes the door behind him. But there is no sudden act of passion from Rafa, no change in his demeanor, no innuendo. They settle out on the balcony, where it is a little chilly but still nice and Rafa holds out a glass to him that still holds a bit of red wine at the very bottom of it, sounding rather demanding.

“Pour.”

Roger is glad he has chosen a bottle of wine with a screw-on cap. Otherwise they would be in trouble now. He doesn't like the idea of adding more alcohol to the mix. After all Rafa has a match to play the next day. Then again this is his birthday, he is all grown up and it is his decision and responsibility to decide how to spend the day and how much... fun he can have without ruining his chances for tomorrow's match. Roger decides Rafa can take care of himself – and he pours the wine. It's a good one – light and sweet and full of delicate flavors. They sit for a while, the skyline of Paris at nighttime littered with lights. No words are necessary. They simply sit and drink and enjoy each other's company. Finally it is Rafa who breaks that silence between them and Roger gets to be the one to grin.

“This is nice.”

“I sure hope so.”

Silence follows yet again and it is only now Roger realizes he hasn't actually wished Rafa a happy birthday. A quick glance at his watch tells him he should hurry. It's 15 minutes to midnight – not a lot of time left for congratulations. But he never says the words. Rafa's earlier, very open-hearted statement about the threesome that has apparently taken place here not too long ago still lingers at the back of Roger's mind. He can't help it. And he can't help the jealousy he feels. He likes Meri, he is glad she is that open-minded about the things her partner wants and yet Roger feels cheated. After all, these two have ruined his birthday gift for Rafa... and he can't help but comment on it.

“So, you and Meri and Pico...”

“It was a birthday gift, Rogi. No need to be embarrassed.”

“I'm not, it's just... You don't usually tell me about these things...”

“Usually, you don't ask.”

There is the slightest hint of reproach to Rafa's tone but Roger decides not to dwell on it. Rafa is – by his own account – tipsy and now is not the time to have a conversation about their communication skills. It is true that there are things they never talk about, especially when it comes to their respective partners. But this is Rafa's birthday, and heartfelt, slightly awkward conversations are not the gift Roger wishes to gift the Spaniard. However he is unable to stop himself from a tiny remark concerning his own partner and their approach to their sex-life. It's a joke more than a regret really though.

“I wish my wife was as... forthcoming with our sex-life as your girlfriend.”

“She loves me, she trusts me. Of course she wants me to be happy. And she is not my girlfriend, Rogi. She is my fiance.”

Hearing the distinction from Rafa's mouth sends a short stab of pain right through Roger's heart. They haven't really talked about this either, mostly because Roger has no idea how to talk to Rafa about the fact that he will get married without sounding angry or jealous. He has no right to do that, he knows this. After all he is a married man as well and Rafa has never once complained about that fact. Of course with the both of them in a very much committed relationship, things will only get more difficult for them... But yet again it is not a topic of conversation on the night of Rafa's birthday.

“Yes... Yes she is.”

The conversation halts again and Roger busies himself with pouring a little more wine into each of their glasses. He wonders what Rafa is thinking about, sitting there next to him, sipping at his drink, watching the city skyline. Maybe he thinks about nothing at all, is simply lost in thought... Roger himself is still hung up on the presents Rafa has already gotten today... and on the question if he will get a chance to ever deliver the third part of his multi-layered present before Rafa's birthday is over. The Spaniard has taken the chocolate and has drunk his wine after all...

The minutes pass by and Roger watches as Rafa finishes his glass. He half expects to be told – politely but determined – to leave now and to allow Rafa the chance for a good night's sleep. They are in the middle of the tournament, an important tournament as well, and they are rivals and competitors again come day break. They might even find each other facing off in the semifinal. So it would only be... prudent for Rafa to thank Roger for his gifts and his company and then send him on his way. But when Rafa turns to face him, a gleam in his eyes Roger has been waiting for ever since the Spaniard has opened the door on him, it is clear the younger man has other plans. It is a minute to midnight.

“Rogi?”

“Mh?”

“I'm ready for round 3 now.”


	13. The wager

6th and 7th June - Paris, France

Roger comes across Rafa's practice session by accident more than planning, but when he does, he decides to stay and have a look. Rafa is on one of the smaller courts at the far end of the tournament site but it is freely available to the public and there are quite a few people gathered. One more – hopefully – will not make a difference. Still Roger keeps his distance, more so that he will not be recognized and have a lot of people on his hands who want pictures and autographs than not to disturb Rafa.

As always – and very much as expected – the Spaniard's practice session is intense but full of light-hearted banter and smiles going all around with the members of his team as well. Roger is very sure Rafa feels well prepared for their match tomorrow. He isn't sure he can say the same thing about himself. Then again there is no way to fully prepare for any match. Tennis – as any sport or game – always has an element of chance to it as well. There is no telling how things will play out for the both of them tomorrow.

It's not entirely about Rafa's practice though, but Roger would never admit that – neither to himself nor to the Spaniard. But the fact remains that he watches because he likes to do it. Rafa makes that abundantly easy. He is a joy to watch – it's as simple as that. And it's not just about attraction... not entirely anyway. Watching the intensity, the emotion pouring right out of the younger man with every shot he takes on the practice court, every movement towards the ball... there is something fascinating about it... A voice right behind him – using a mischievous and almost teasing tone – makes Roger flinch, before he turns around abruptly coming face to face with Rafa's fiance. 

"Enjoying the view?"

"Meri! I... I'm sorry. I didn't see you there..."

"No. You were too focused on... other things."

A soft grin accompanies the mischief in her voice now and Roger can't help but feel slightly uncomfortable. He isn't used to the younger woman talking to him like this. Of course he has talked to Meri before and he sees her around. But even though she is friendly and polite, she is also usually very reserved around him. Right now she is acting more like they are friends than loose acquaintances. Roger isn't exactly sure if he is okay with that, but for the moment he decides to engage in it... and it seems he only fuels Meri's teasing.

"You make that sound like I was stalking your fiance."

"Oh, I'm sorry... Were you not?"

The sound of her voice, the amusement and the knowing look in her eyes – it is almost like she is taunting Roger. Of course they are both aware there is more to the relationship between the two men than the wide public knows, which gives Meri every right and reason to actually tease the Swiss just a little. It's just that she has never done that before. Usually their encounters are brief and only consist of polite chitchat with barely any substance to it. They both share a relationship with the same man after all... and that is not always easy. So Meri's change in demeanor manages to do one thing perfectly – it renders Roger practically speechless.

"No! I was just... I... He..."

"Well?"

"I watched! We will play the semis against one another tomorrow. A little look at the opponent's practice session is not forbidden or anything. I want to win after all."

Finally Roger manages a coherent reply though he still feels very much irritated by the fact that Rafa's fiance has somehow maneuvered him into a defensive position where he feels the need to defend the simple action of standing here, watching a practice session that is open to the public eye anyway. Some of the mischief has dulled in the younger woman's eyes and she seems more curious than out to pester him with more of her slightly uncomfortable questions. Talking to her about the upcoming match isn't exactly an easy topic either. In the end it's all about Rafa and him – yet again.

"You think you will?"

"Win? I don't know. Depends on a lot of things, doesn't it? Day form, personal feeling, fitness, conditions..."

"So you won't win?"

"I didn't say that."

Roger is aware he sounds a lot like this is a press conference and he is trying his best to be vague in his answers. But what works with journalists doesn't exactly work with Meri. Rafa has always praised the younger woman for being smart and quick-witted, but Roger has never come into contact with her like that to actually find out. Now he does and he cannot help but wonder what has brought on this change in her demeanor. It must have been something Rafa has told her and Roger can't help the rather dreadful thought that it has to do with Rafa's 'birthday presents'. If that is the case, they know rather intimate details of one another. It would explain why Meri is being so straightforwardly teasing with him that it is almost irritating. And she doesn't stop there. She actually proposes something Roger hasn't expected from her – not in a million years. 

“Are you willing to bet on it?”

“What? On your fiance winning a match he is the favorite in anyway?! No!”

“Coward.”

The word slips out and is followed by a smile to soften the blow, but still all Roger can do for a very long moment is stare and blink at the younger woman. Judging from her demeanor, Meri doesn't mean it as an insult. It's more of a challenge instead and she manages to get Roger exactly where she wants him to be. He feels – indeed - challenged in his pride. And he reacts on instinct before ever thinking things through. He accepts the wager.

“What exactly do you want to bet? Money?”

“No. That would be boring.”

“Money is boring?”

"It is for you and Rafa, is it not? And don't pretend otherwise.”

"Alright, fine. What then?”

Meri answers him almost instantly – leaving it all too clear to Roger that she has been thinking this through before ever approaching him about this whole thing – and she has that mixture of amusement, mischief and condescension to her voice that makes it hard to deal with her. She confronts him with a fact she couldn't possibly know about, because Roger hasn't talked to her about it. He has told Rafa though and it is true to the fact that he has been gloating just a little here and there... maybe. Now that gets thrown right back in his face.

“You have been showing off and never shutting up about that state-of-the-art, well equipped, nothing to be left desired, penthouse hotel suite of yours. I want that. For a whole evening. And I want you to be our host. Including preparing the hot tub and getting us drinks and a meal.”

“You want me to cook?!”

“I want you to make sure we get a luscious meal. I didn't say anything about you being the one to prepare it.”

It's disconcerting and just a little infuriating that Meri seems to know so much about him, while Roger knows very little about her. Then again he has never really bothered to ask. As it turns out, Rafa's fiance is very much different from him in that regard. It's obvious Rafa talks to her about him. How else would she know about the suite – and his rather childish gloating about it – or the fact that he is lost as a cook, even if his life depended on it. The only person who could have told her about it is Rafa...

It leaves her with a distinctive advantage and it explains why she has been so confident ever since this whole, slightly surreal conversation has started. She has an edge, because she knows him a lot better than he knows her. Maybe it would be a good idea to change that in the future... For now however his main focus is on whether or not to accept this wager presented to him. Meri has already tried to appeal to his pride, his sense of wanting to come out on top. But his rational mind tells him to be careful.

“But only if I lose?”

“Of course.”

“And if I win?”

“Your choice.”

The younger woman presents Roger with a very appealing chance here. A free choice of a price if he wins the semifinal match and the wager between him and Meri as well. He has a whole variety of options to think of and – not unexpectedly – the first thought appearing in his mind would be something humiliating to the younger woman. After all she has kept on teasing him and making him feel idiotic for quite a while now. She only deserves for him to get back at her. But then again it's a petty thought and a waste of the choices he has... It's not easy to come up with an idea and Roger decides he doesn't have to right away.

“I'll have to think about that.”

"You do that.”

Meri smiles a satisfied smile at him and turns, ready to leave him standing there and join Rafa and his team. It is probably what she has been about to do in the first place before coming across the Swiss. She and Rafa most definitely have plans for after the Spaniard's practice session. The Swiss isn't quite sure what triggers it. Maybe it is the younger woman's odd behavior. Maybe it is the fact that she has already thought of a price for winning their wager, while he himself is drawing a blank. The thought occurs to him suddenly and given how their meeting has progressed, Roger feels no need to stop himself from being as blunt and straightforward as Meri has been. He stops her once again, calling out to her and puts a determined look on his face when she turns to face him.

"If I win, I want a whole evening as well. With your fiance."

"You want Rafa as your price?"

"Somehow I'm sure you can make that happen."

There is a mild tone of disbelief to Meri's tone of voice but Roger is pretty sure it's just an act. He is being candid and just a little insolent with his request, Roger knows that. Meri has requested an evening at Roger's hotel suite to share there with her fiance while the Swiss plays host for them. Roger is requesting a person as a prize. It's almost like a reenactment of the movie 'Indecent Proposal '... or it would be if him and Rafa weren't already sharing a relationship that Meri is very much aware of... And Roger is very much sure the younger woman will not only tolerate his wish, but help him achieve it if need be. This is about honoring their commitment after all. The younger woman takes a moment, thinking about her choices. 

"If you win, of course."

"If I win. Do we have a deal?"

It takes another moment and Roger can practically watch the thought process playing on Meri's face while she reaches a decision. In the end it turns out exactly as Roger expects it and the younger woman reaches out a hand for him to shake. Their wager is sealed with that handshake and it seems they are both very much satisfied with this strange little game – and it's possible outcome – they are playing here. 

"Deal."

*#*

He has tried, he really has, there is no denying that. Conditions have been averse and difficult to play in, but then again that goes for him just as much as it goes for Rafa. Somehow the Spaniard has been able to deal with it better... And he has brought his A game, has been at 100 percent both physically and mentally and Roger has not found a way to break through that. So the outcome of the match has pretty much been inevitable... Rafa has won, Roger is out of the tournament and right now that hurts.

Every loss hurts of course. No competitive athlete performing in any kind of sport in this world likes to lose. But it happens. It's part of the game. Right now Roger is simply happy all his responsibilities for the day are already behind him. He has played, he has lost, he has showered and changed, he has answered the presses' incessant questions and now he is about to leave – and make a decision whether to return next year at some time in the far future. For now all that counts is a chance to go back to the confines of his hotel suite, relax, regroup and look onward.

However things are not exactly as cut and dry as he would like for them to be. When he returns to the locker room to pick up his things, somebody is waiting for him. And it is nobody on his team or any other familiar face he would like to be confronted with now. Though the face is indeed familiar. But it belongs to Rafa's fiance and right now Roger really doesn't want to come face to face with anyone or anything reminding him of Rafa. He needs a little time to digest before he allows for himself to be confronted with Rafa – or his entourage and family for that matter – again. But Meri is nothing if not stubborn. She leaves him no choice as she steps into his path, not having any words of sympathy or condolences for him. She is stating the obvious and Roger has a hard time not to snap at her for the insolence displayed, even though she does it with a soft, almost apologetic smile to lessen the blow.

“You lost.”

“I did at that.”

“We want Tilapia.”

He reply is so disconnected and confusing, Roger has no clue what the younger woman is talking about and right now he really can't be bothered to play a guessing game with her. He has just lost a difficult and demanding match and even though he has never been the favorite and this has been his first dip into the French Open after for years, losing to Rafa still stings. Meri confronting him – and being rather blunt yet again – certainly doesn't help how he feels. It's not until he snaps at her mildly and she explains her demand to him, that he even remembers the stupid bet he and the younger woman have agreed on... and the price he is supposed to pay.

“You want what?”

“It's a fish, Roger. Google it.”

“I... Okay...”

Roger feels too perplexed, too... overrun by the situation to come up with a useful and elaborate reply. The expression on Meri's face softens ever so slightly as she seems to realize that teasing him – and rather harshly at that – after the blow he has just gone through at losing the semifinal, has not exactly been her best idea. She does apologize, a genuine expression of both sorrow and sympathy on her face now and that actually manages to make Roger feel just a tiny bit better.

“I didn't mean it as an insult or a snide remark, you know that don't you?”

“Just a joke?”

“Just a joke.”

Her reassurance – and the soft smile that goes with it – actually gives Roger both hope and determination. Maybe, just maybe he can use his current onset of feelings and Meri's display of sympathy to get out of the wager he has agreed to the day before. But the younger woman is nothing if not strong willed and relentless in her pursuit of getting what they have agreed on. His approach to get her to be lenient is met with yet another smile... and a shake of the head that leaves no room for discussion.

“Like wanting an evening in my room with being wined and dined?”

“No. That was a serious demand. You lost the wager after all.”

Roger nods at that, not exactly sure how to respond other than to agree. A thought occurs to him, something that has not crossed his mind before. The only one he has ever spoken to about this little bet is Meri. He can't help but wonder if Rafa is involved, if he has put his fiance up to this in any way. Somehow he doubts this is all the younger woman's doing without ever even considering or asking how Rafa feels about it all. But it is… or at least that is what she wants Roger to believe.

“Does your husband-to-be know about any of this?”

“No. Not yet. It's my surprise to him. My victory gift.”

“You are an evil spirit, you know that?”

“Now who is the one being mean spirited?”

She smiles, despite his barely veiled and rather vindictive insult. But just like her telling him to use google for help, Roger hasn't really meant to be insulting towards the younger woman. He simply doesn't like the fact that he has lost – twice already, first the match, now the wager – and that Meri has come to collect on him so quickly and efficiently. But the last thing he wants to be is a sore loser. After all he has years and years of practice at being gracious in defeat... He has never liked it, but he is good at pretending. Now is no exception.

“Eight working for you?”

“Make it nine.”

“Gladly.”

The administrative planning of their conversation done, the younger woman gives him an appreciative nod that is a gesture of goodbye all the same. Roger hides back a sigh of relief and is about ready to enter the locker room, when Meri turns to face him again, a smile on her face Roger can't quite place. This time he is unable to hide both his impatience and frustration away. He feels bad at the moment, the conversation with the younger woman was supposed to be over and he really fells no desire or need to have her stir in the wound yet again.

"Roger?"

"What else? More mean spirited things on your mind?"

"I just wanted to let you know, that I might have to leave early. You wouldn't mind entertaining my fiance, would you?"

The smile of sympathy on Meri's face melts into something way more cheeky, knowingly, almost inviting. She is offering him a chance here, a chance to actually get what he has asked as a price if he had won the wager – and the match of course – and the younger woman seems to be offering exactly that to him. Maybe it is sympathy, maybe it is some sort of guilt or maybe – just maybe – she is simply being nice to him. Either way she achieves something Roger himself would only have managed with time and perspective. Somehow the blow and sting of the loss has just been significantly dulled...


	14. Fire

*London – July 2019*

„That was... wow.“

Roger is still a little out of breath when he utters the words, but there is a deep satisfaction to them, one any person can only feel if they have just experienced something truly beautiful and marvelous. Maybe he is being a little over dramatic. After all it has just been sex and after all those years he should not be swooning over it like a teenage boy anymore... But he does. Because despite everything – this has been a special moment he has shared.

It had all started out a little odd already. After his own return from the tournament grounds of Wimbledon and checking on Rafa's match, the Spaniard had shown up on his doorstep unannounced, barely 40 minutes after his own match had ended – with a victory for the Spaniard just for the record. Given the fact that Rafa had done the press conference and had showered and changed before that, he had to have come here right after leaving the tournament grounds.

Roger had actually been surprised to find the younger man at his rental home's door but any question that had been on the tip of his tongue had died away when Roger had taken one look at Rafa's face and into his eyes. His expression is one of grim determination, one of desperate need with his eyes dark, full of fire and passion, that actually manage to send a blissful shiver down his spine. Rafa had said exactly four words to him and that had been enough...

“I need you. Now.”

There had been no two ways about what Rafa meant and even though this was something they normally planned and made sure they were careful about, there had been no chance whatsoever, that Roger would send the younger man away. His wife would probably not be happy with the arrangement, his kids would be confused... but the young man at his doorstep needs him... seems desperate about his conviction and has actually risked quite a lot showing up here like this unannounced and in bright daylight... So Roger pulls the younger man closer and over the threshold.

What has happened afterwards is kind of a blur to the Swiss. It has been amazing, that much he can say. Unlike any other encounter the two men have ever had. It's not like the physical encounter has been all that different. The atmosphere between them however has been... There has been so much intimacy, urgency and passion, it has caused a palpable tension between them... one they had only been able to relieve and resolve with the sexual encounter they have just had.

Roger can only repeat his previous assessment – this has been amazing. Mostly he feels exhausted, but it's a good kind of exhaustion. Secondly he feels just a little apprehensive. Because not that the heat of the moment, the passion and need driving and blinding them has passed, there is the real world to deal with. And that includes a – probably very – sour wife for Roger and a handful of curious kids who will want to know why Rafa has shown up here like this and why the two men have disappeared upstairs together...

Roger is interrupted in his thoughts as he realizes that Rafa has yet to respond to his previous statement. The Spaniard has been very much silent ever since their encounter had come to a close and looking over at Rafa next to him on his side, head propped up on one arm, the Swiss is actually taken aback by the almost pained expression on Rafa's face. Yes they have been a little more... passionate than usual but Rafa should be feeling fine... As it turns out his expression has nothing to do with passion and everything to do with a feeling of guilt... 

„What's wrong? You seemed to enjoy yourself just a moment ago...“

„I do. I am. It's just... I'm sorry, I barged in like this. I should have called...“

„You didn't seem in the mood for... prudence or pragmatism.“

The humor showing all too clearly in Roger's tone of voice seems to whiz right past Rafa. He uses it in hopes to lighten the mood and get Rafa out of his sudden funk. But it doesn't work. Mainly because the Spaniard is right, Roger supposes. After all he has been thinking about the very same think just a moment ago. But the last thing he wants is to blame Rafa for his actions. The younger man clearly hadn't been thinking straight... But Rafa actually manages to send himself on a guilt trip all on his own.

„I invaded the privacy of your home... Your wife must think I'm a self-absorbed, arrogant idiot... and the kids are probably confused to have me visit...“

„This isn't my home, Rafa.“

„It is at the moment.“

„Okay, granted. But I'm okay with your invasion... and as for my wife and kids... you didn't visit them... you came here for me...“

„Si, I did.“

Rafa still sounds anything but happy with the way things have gone, but there is little he can do about it now. He has reacted on instinct, he has managed to convince Roger of the need for this encounter and now what's done is done. There's little use in fretting over it all now. Especially because it has been a incredible experience and just a moment ago – before he has started this whole line of thinking – Rafa had seemed just as happy, relaxed and satisfied as Roger feels. 

„And I very much enjoyed it. And judging from the expression on your face, so did you. You seemed to need this...“

„It was a very tough match. Lots of tension...“

„I know. What little I saw of it was hard to stomach... and all I did was watch.“

„I needed a... chance to relieve the pressure.“

„Perfect decision then.“

Roger grins again, meaning to tease. But – deep down – he is glad Rafa has come to him. It means a lot to know he has been the Spaniard's instinctual anchor in all this insanity. He is the one Rafa has thought of in order to stop thinking, find something else to focus on and have a chance to exhaust himself and make himself feel both desirable and satisfied in order to get his swirling emotions back under control and make the tension bleed out of him...

Movement suddenly seems to grab a hold of the Spaniard, almost like the bed they are both in has suddenly turned toxic and Rafa can't get away from it – and Roger as well – soon enough. He sits up and moves to the edge of the bed, looking for his clothes strewn all over the floor, only half turning around to face Roger and explain himself before picking up his briefs and one sock... wherever the hell the second one has gone. 

„I should go, no? The longer I stay, the more risk...“

„Rafa you WALKED over to my rental home, probably with that scary determined expression on your face you were wearing when I first caught sight of you, you knocked on the door and you have been here for almost an hour. If anyone saw you, suspicions will already have arisen.“

„So I stay?“

Rafa has stopped picking up the pieces of his clothing from the floor and raises an eyebrow at Roger, quite obviously confused at the Swiss' reaction. Roger admits he hasn't exactly been helpful for Rafa's decision making process. The simple truth is, that Rafa should probably leave – before a real problem arises because somebody has seen them together at the door – but he doesn't want the younger man to. But he is not the only one here at the house – Roger realizes with a sudden clarity – and this is not his decision to make, at least not solely...

„Only if you enjoy dinner with four kids at the table.“

„Sounds like a little much. And they WILL ask what you and I have been doing.“

„That's a problem.“

„So I leave.“

„As much as I hate that thought, but yes, you should probably leave... and get back to your own house.“

Roger never really says it but the implication of Rafa's actions hangs in the room like an executioner's ax. If they have been seen, have been found out... there will be hell to pay. Roger is married, Rafa will be soon and they have a good, long, distinguished career on the line if any of what they have been doing here today, have been doing for over a decade now, ever comes to light... Rafa comes up with a lame explanation, one that Roger counters with another bit of teasing. 

„I can always say I... got lost?“

„But you found me.“

„Estupido...“

„Hey! No name calling in languages the other doesn't understand!“

Rafa rolls his eyes at him and gets up off the bed, slipping into his underwear in the process. Obviously this conversation is now over and Rafa has made up his mind about what to do. Roger is still undecided. For right now he is perfectly content just lying in bed and watching Rafa. He likes watching Rafa getting dressed. Actually he likes watching Rafa getting undressed a whole lot better. But they have already done that... in a hurry.

Roger lets his mind wander while he watches Rafa struggle first with his socks, then with his jeans and finally his shoes. The Spaniard has yet to find his shirt though and he can't really leave without it. While Rafa still looks for the missing piece of fabric, Roger's mind suddenly comes up with a question from the depths of his own thoughts, one he can't stop himself from asking and one that Rafa is just a little defensive about.

„That match of yours, the intensity, the passion you displayed, the way you celebrated. It was all very... I don't know... aggressive, I guess? You really can't stand that obnoxious Australian, can you?“

„It's not about sympathy, Roger.“

„Tell that to the handshake you 'shared' at the net. You hate that guy.“

„I don't hate anyone on the tour. There are people I like and people I don't like.“

It's a standard press conference room answer and Roger sees right through it. It's that thin line Rafa likes to walk at times – the one where he doesn't tell the entire truth but doesn't outright lie either. Rafa has told him on a number of occasions that he doesn't like to lie to people and Roger has pointed out to him that – sometimes – stretching the truth is a necessity. This is what they are doing right now... But Roger isn't really interested in Rafa's take on Kyrgios or anyone else on the tour for that matter.

„What about me?“

„Don't tease, Rogi.“

„I'm not! I don't think we played a match that intense against one another since... since forever, really. That - out there today – it was nothing like what we have...“

„No relationship with any of the other players is like what we have, Rogi.“

There is a lot of affection in Rafa's voice when he says the words and the expression in his eyes is full of warmth. It's nice to hear the Spaniard talk like this, to see him look at Roger this way. But this hasn't been about what they share on a personal level. This has been about them as tennis players and rivals. Obviously however that is not something Rafa wants to talk about with him right now. 

„I didn't mean it like that.“

„I know.“

Rafa finally finds his shirt right underneath the heap that are Roger's discarded clothes. He makes a noise that is somewhere between a huff and an unintelligible course in his native tongue and pulls the shirt over his head, effectively finishing getting dressed. Roger half expects Rafa to just leave but the Spaniard stops – doesn't move to the door, doesn't move back to the bed – and when he looks back at Roger suddenly there is a mildly reproachful expression on his face. The sharp change of topic Rafa introduces, manages to catch Roger off guard. 

„You told the media about your foundation and the charity event.“

„Should I not have?“

„It's your charity. Of course you can tell them.“

There is a sour tone to Rafa's reply though the emotion doesn't carry onto his face. But the Spaniard is not pleased, Roger can tell. He gives up his relaxed position on the bed, sits up and pulls the sheets around him just a little. This is not a conversation he wants to have with Rafa dressed and him entirely naked. Somehow that feels... out of balance. Especially because he is about to scold the Spaniard for his behavior.

„Don't do this, Rafa. Don't be passive aggressive. It doesn't suit you. Just tell me what's wrong, please?“

„You could have asked first...“

„But you just said it's my charity and therefore my decision to announce the event.“

„I was being sarcastic.“

Roger frowns and then smiles ever so softly as he realizes he has been completely unaware of the irony to Rafa's words. He has been aware of the aggression but somehow the fact that Rafa was being sarcastic has not managed to transcend. It makes sense though. Because even though the charity and the event belong to Roger' foundation Rafa is a part of it... and should therefor have a say in it. Instead of apologizing, Roger can't help but joke and Rafa does not exactly appreciate it. 

„Oh... Must be post-sex-stupidity. That went right over my head.“

„This is not a joke.“

Roger wants to say something in return – maybe even apologize – but he doesn't get the chance. Rafa is quicker, obviously in a bit of a rant mode, which is quite the obvious sign some of the earlier tension and swirl of emotion he has come here to fight down are still lingering. He makes rather animated gestures with his hands, while he explains what is bothering him to the Swiss. 

„You told the press and I didn't even know... Would have been nice if you had warned me. It would have been... polite.“

„I was polite! I only said nice things about you!“

„A heart of gold?“

„That's nice!“

„It's cheesy.“

„That's me – nice and cheesy.“

Rafa rolls his eyes again, neither appreciating the humor nor the compliment. But when he raises a hand in goodbye, there is a soft and content smile on his lips. He isn't angry with Roger. It's simply time to burst the bubble and end this strange, somewhat unique but definitely amazing encounter. They each have to go back to their respective lives... and draws and matches... The intimate moment they have shared is now a moment of the past – a memory... and a great one.

„Good luck on Saturday, Rogi. Say goodbye to Mirka and the kids from me.“

„I will and good luck to you too. I'm sure it will be a better match this time... more relaxing, I guess.“

„Any match is better.“

Rafa mumbles the words and they are definitely not meant for the Swiss but his voice carries too much or maybe Rafa should have made more of an effort to speak softer. Either way, Roger picks up both on the words and on the sarcasm this time and as much as Rafa has tried to deny it earlier, with this kind of reaction his feelings about his 2nd round opponent are clear as day... and of course Roger calls him out on it. 

„So you do hate him!“

„No. Bye.“

There is the softest of grins on Rafa's lips that doesn't quite go with his taciturn answer. Roger knows what it means though. It is Rafa's way of letting him know he is right without ever actually admitting to the facts. Seconds later Rafa is by the door, opens it... and then he is gone and their – hour long - moment vanishes with him. Roger gives a long, soft sight and lets himself fall back into the pillows. Sometimes Rafa is really, very difficult... But that doesn't make him any less adorable.


End file.
